The Dragon of Durmstrang
by Timeframe
Summary: Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, left England with his Godfather after the death of his parents. Living in Switzerland, educated at Durmstrang, and close friends with Viktor Krum, his life seemed to be perfect until his past finally caught up to him. Now he must face, not only the Tri-Wizard Tournament, but also the darkness that looms over his head.
1. The Quidditch World Cup

**The Dragon of Durmstrang**

A/N: Taking another shot at writing, and dusting up my skillset. Enjoy my own AU world of Harry Potter as a Durmstrang student, of which I'm sure will be quite interesting indeed. He is, once again, older in this story, and will be a seventh year student.

 **Chapter One: The Quidditch World Cup**

He opened his eyes wildly, realizing that his godfather had already left the tent. Getting up from his reverie, he quickly shook the covers that were strewn all over his form, before immediately hopping up to a standing position, and grabbing the nearest clothes he could find. He knew he could not be late for this, especially since his best friend was playing today.

Harry opened the door from his room to reveal his already well-dressed godfather smirking at his unpreparedness. He grunted at his presence, before slowly trudging towards the modest kitchen, and preparing a bowl of cereal.

"If only your adoring fans could see the great Harry Potter now," Sirius slowly announced as he followed his godson's footsteps towards the dining room, "How much do you think will they pay me if I send them a photo of you half-naked like this?"

Harry choked on his first spoon of cereal before glancing towards his godfather, "You wouldn't dare, Padfoot."

Sirius looked hurt at his accusation before responding in a chiding tone, "And why wouldn't I? Lord knows I need more money now that you seem to eat as much as a troll would in a day."

"You wouldn't," Harry started as he finished the last drop of milk left on his bowl, "Because I still have the picture of you and Moony in a very uncomfortable position. You wouldn't want that to, say, accidentally be left out in the office desk of Rita Skeeter now, would you?"

Sirius looked shocked at first, before pointing at his godson in an accusing way, "You wouldn't dare!"

"Oh but I would."

Sirius sighed before putting both his hands up in defeat, "Fine, but you better hurry up, our portkey will be leaving us in ten minute. Wouldn't want to ruin your best friends game by missing it now, would you?"

Sighing, he got up before pulling over his head a red sweater that had the Durmstrang crest on it. He felt the material, and smiled at the memories attached to the piece of clothing. It was the first time he had ever felt truly part of something, and he would always cherish his life in Durmstrang, especially since he was graduating after this year.

An old house elf popped right beside Harry, just as he finished putting on his clothing, and said in a frustrated manner, "Master has already prepared his own meal, let Kreacher clean up here! Be a good master, and leave poor Kreacher's job alone!"

Sirius smirked lightly at that, while Harry patted the house elf's head, "Go ahead then, I need to be leaving soon anyways."

Kreacher seemed to be relieved ta that, before snapping his fingers and making all the dishes and cutleries disappear, leaving a very neat and tidy dining room.

Sirius looked at his watch, before motioning to Harry. The young man followed his godfather's footsteps towards the living room, where a statuesque of Nerida Vulchanova, the first Highmistress of Dursmstrang Institute, and Harry's own personal idol. The Founding Highmistress was the first to have ever mastered Battle Magic, and Harry is decidedly following the same path.

Shaking his head out of his reverie, he looked towards Sirius before asking, "Are we to stay there for the night, or will we come back here?"

Sirius contemplatively thought about it for a second, before slowly replying, "I don't think the British will give us an International Portkey tonight, since most of their manpower will be pushed towards maintain order after the game. Quidditch fans do go all out when celebrating."

Harry shook his head, before taking one last look outside the window, onto the slow streets of Bern, Switzerland. He recounted the days he spent inside this house, his home with his godfather, and how much he will miss it even for just a day. He felt safe here, and British soil always felt negative to him. His parents had died there, and that was all he could ever remember when visiting that specific country. He had left after Sirius had been set free, after a closed trial with him being suspect as the Secret Keeper of his parents, and ever since then, he had lived in the Black House of Bern, Switzerland. Of course, his godfather had wanted to keep him safe, as well as erasing any memory of his parent's death by leaving the soil that was bloodied with James and Lily Potter's murder. For that, he was thankful of his godfather.

Sirius nudged Harry as the portkey seemed to glow on its own accord. "Ready, pup?"

Harry nodded, before they both grabbed a hold of the statuette, and were whisked away by a gale of soft winds.

* * *

Walking slowly around the campsite, he could see the numerous witches and wizards around the world that were trying their best to dress muggle. It had been a strict rule by the International Confederation of Wizards that the only way a Quidditch World Cup could be held would be with the strictest policy of the reinforcement of the Statute of Secrecy.

Laughing to himself as he found a man who seemed to be wearing a bonnet and a lady's night dress, he had almost bumped into a group of people who were talking rather boisterously.

"Harry!"

Harry looked towards the group he had almost stumbled into, only to be tackled into a hug by a red head girl. She snuggled into his chest, and seemed to be content in laying into his frame rather awkwardly as the rest of the group just laughed away at Harry's predicament.

"Ksenia, I need to breathe." Harry wheezed out as he tried to hug the girl back, while prying her off at the same time.

The girl in question, Ksenia Sheshukova, looked up at him before smiling brightly. She sported a rather silky red hair that framed her heart shaped face. She seemed to possess a fetching smile, and Harry knew it could melt almost anybody, especially him.

One of the males in the group of four chided softly, "Ksenia, leave the poor boy alone. You know he probably won't disappear if you let him go right?"

Everyone laughed once more as Ksenia huffed, before placing one arm over his waist possessively. Harry just chuckled, and did the same, before placing a kiss on her temple, which made her smile softly at him.

"Tut, the lovebirds are at it again, whatever shall we do to keep the rest of us busy before the big match tonight?"

"Shut it, Alexei. Get a girlfriend already, and maybe you wouldn't so fixated with our relationship." Harry jabbed back, while sticking a tongue out at the group.

Everyone laughed once again, as the blonde haired teen that was pegged as Alexei blushed slightly, before sticking his tongue out back childishly.

Ksenia seemed to have had enough, "Shut it, both of you. Harry needs to see his best friend before the match, and the rest of you will want to find your seats soon." She smirked slowly before continuing, "Besides, Harry's tongue belongs to me, and me only."

This caused Harry to redden, and everyone to once again burst out laughing.

* * *

The tent flaps opened once again, revealing Viktor Krum in his Bulgarian National Uniform. He slowly edged towards the few benches outside the Team tents, and smiled at the presence of his best friend.

Harry stood up from his position before meeting Viktor in the middle. Ksenia seemed hesitant at first, before slowly following her boyfriend. They met at the middle of the small enclosed site, before giving each other a brief hug.

Viktor kissed Ksenia's knuckle, before looking once again at Harry before asking, "How's the crowd out there."

Harry realized that there seemed to not have any noise whatsoever in this area. He guessed it was so that the players can prepare themselves without the distracting cheers and chants of the crowd. Glancing towards the small opening that reveal the edge of the stadium, he answered with a grin, "Tens of thousands, just to see the prodigious Viktor Krum!"

Viktor sighed at that before shuffling around, "I don't think we will win tonight, to be honest with you."

Ksenia seemed to perk at that, before asking in a squeaky voice, "Why? I'm sure you will be able to catch the snitch before the Irish seeker does. I don't think I've seen anybody fly better than you."

Viktor smiled at her softly, before replying, "Harry does come close."

"You flatter me, and I know what you are talking about. The team still does not play very well I take it" Harry asked while grabbing a hold of Ksenia's hand, rubbing her palm in comfort.

"It is as if we were formed just yesterday. They still count on me to catch the snitch before the other team scores too much." Viktor rubbed his head before continuing, "The problem is, the Irish have a great Chaser line-up, and we will be hard-pressed to defend against them. It will be a miracle if I could even catch the snitch before they outscore us enough that it will still be a loss."

Harry slowly placed his hand on Viktor's shoulders before confidently saying, "Just play like you always do, and no matter what, your friends will think of you a winner."

Viktor smirked at him, realizing how lucky he was to have met a friend like Harry. It felt just like they were back at Durmstrang once again, during their first year. Both of them isolated because of their heritage. Harry was British, and the others seemed to not like that a lot, while Viktor was already a rising star with his broom, which made him seem aloof and standoffish. Together, they made the most unusual friends.

The chant started to rise from the Bulgarian tent, and Viktor knew his time was up. Harry smiled at his friend, before urging him on, while hugging his girlfriend with one arm, "Go on, your team needs you."

Viktor nodded contemplatively before sighing, "I guess I'll see you at the after party tonight."

Harry nodded, before leading both him and Ksenia out of the tent area, and into the stadium.

* * *

Once exiting the team area, he was bombarded with the exuberant cheers of the Quidditch fans from all around them. He looked around and realized that they were currently at the very bottom, and knew that the seats Sirius had procured for them were at one of the top boxes.

"Well, I guess there's no time like the present." Harry muttered before leading Ksenia up the staircase.

Luckily, there weren't as much people as there were an hour ago along the staircase, which made their descent easier than usual. He still bumped into some people along the way, one of which was a family of three, with a blonde haired boy of no more than seventeen muttering about red heads. He glared at the family, before hugging Ksenia tighter into his form.

"You know, I can protect myself better than most could, right?" Ksenia chided him as they passed the blonde haired Briton.

Harry smiled down at her before replying softly, "I know, but I didn't like what that boy was saying about red heads."

Ksenia smiled at him before replying, "Well, at least I know my boyfriend will take care of me against blonde haired Britons!"

"Against anything, and anyone."

Harry earned a heated kiss from her, before they decided they had lingered long enough. They slowly trudged towards the highest spots, before passing what seems to have been the Minister's booth. They found Sirius sitting just a few booths away from the Minister's, with a two seats readily available for them.

"What took you both so long?" Sirius asked while seemingly preoccupied with the dancing  
Veela's at the middle of the stadium.

Harry chuckled before leading Ksenia to her seat, and grabbing his own. He looked around and realized that the stadium itself was larger than he had imagined. Before he could even start complimenting that charm work involved, he could hear the Irish team being introduced.

Slowly pegging the Irish National Team, he concluded that Viktor's worries were definitely warranted. The Irish team was composed of three very well-versed Chasers, as well as two fine Beaters, and a really experienced Keeper. The only weakness he could see was the Seeker, whom he knew was the rookie of the team, and therefore could not compete with the likes of Viktor Krum.

As the Bulgarian team was announced, he could definitely see that most of the Bulgarian fans were cheering, not for the team itself, but for Krum. The beat of the drums were intoxicating, as "Krum" was chanted in a way that made his heart beat with pride. Viktor himself came out in a fashion, before rolling over and doing other tricks he had learned to please his fans. The cheers were tremendous, and he could see that even the Irish fans were egging Viktor on. It seemed to no matter what, everyone knew Viktor to be the superior Seeker.

"That friend of yours knows how to please the crowd, hey?"

Harry looked towards Sirius before giving him a thumbs up. He knew Viktor did what he does simply because his manager, and coach, taught him how to crowd control. The more enamoured the crowd is with him, the more sponsorships and other opportunities will be available to him. It was a give and take; something that Viktor knew would be the case.

Ksenia took his hand in hers, before rubbing her thumb on his palm. Harry sighed at that motion. Before turning to her and giving her a chaste kiss, something that seemed to have ignited her passion as she seemed to tug at his lower lip. He lingered for a bit, before whispering, "Later."

Ksenia winked at him, and before he knew it, the game had already begun.

* * *

Taking another swing of the bottle of Firewhiskey, Harry sighed as Viktor seemed to be crowded once again by his sponsors. Sirius had gone back to their tent for tonight, while Ksenia stayed with him, enduring this boring after party.

The Bulgarian Team seemed to not be feeling the festivity, and had quickly excused themselves from this gathering, but Viktor was not exempt. His last minute catch that caused the win of the Irish was stupendous enough that his sponsors, as well as new ones, were lining up for a chance to get more of his face time with their products.

Harry, the ever so vigilant, and devoted friend, had stayed behind. He looked around, and found himself quite relaxed that they haven't identified him as _The_ Harry Potter. If they had, then he too would be swarmed with reporters, and sponsors. He lowered his head, trying to make himself inconspicuous, while hiding his scar with his messy black hair.

"They seem to not be able to get away from Viktor for even just a second." Ksenia commented lightly while sitting on Harry's lap, twirling her hair with her wand.

He knew how bored Ksenia was, and finally decided that enough was enough. Harry got up, and headed towards the swarm of reporters and sponsors, firmly parting the group into two, "Viktor, congratulations on your catch."

Everyone seemed to stop as this young man walked over without any emotion whatsoever, and engaged the Quidditch superstar as though they were friends.

Viktor smirked at this, before firmly giving Harry a brief hug, and kissing Ksenia's knuckle once again, "The catch was worth it, even though we lost, the snitch belongs to Bulgaria."

Harry smiled at that, "We-"

His words were stopped when a hug explosion seemed to have shaken the whole camp site. Everyone crouched low as another explosion seemed to have resounded, and before anyone knew it, people started running away.

Harry and Ksenia were quickly swept up by the crowd, while Viktor seemed to have been surrounded by security guards employed by the Bulgarian Government for their team. Harry nodded to Viktor, before pulling Ksenia away, trying to reach their tent.

His first option was to find Sirius, before running together to safety, but before they could even steer themselves to that direction, the mass of the crowd broke Harry's hold on Ksenia, and both were swept into two different directions.

"No! Ksenia!"

Harry tried vigorously to run towards her, but her form seemed to have disappeared as the crowd pushed and pulled into different directions. His heart wrenched even further as he tried to part the crowd using his own strength, but it was denied as the crowd just pushed him back further and further away from his girlfriend.

Tired, and slightly dazed, he took charge of the situation, and immediately ran with the crowd, hoping that the destination that he'd end up at would be around the same place as Ksenia would settle in. As he neared the west side of the camp, he could see the forms of people being hovered above the heads of people dressed in cloaks. These people wore silver masks, and he immediately knew how serious the situation was.

Silver masks, robes of black cut, these were definitely Death Eaters. He could still remember the lecture they had last year about Dark Lords, and his most favoured topic was Lord Voldemort, the man who had murdered his parents. His extensive research on this being led him to the information on Death Eaters, and finally, the conclusive result that their current Highmaster, Igor Karkaroff, was indeed a former member of this group. His taste for the Highmaster just dwindled, since he never really had respect for the bitter old man.

Just as Harry fled into the forest, he immediately heard screams for help from a girl nearby. Quickening his pace, he was led to a clearing with one man leering at the girl, and the other getting ready to cast a stunning spell at her.

The girl in question had blonde hair with specks of blood on it, draping half of her face, while she trembled in fear. The crowd around them seemed to be oblivious as most were running for their lives. The ones that did, did nothing out of fear and panic.

Harry, the ever so bold, quickly rushed in and shouted, "Frangit!"

The smashing spell hit the first of the two males, and immediately saw him blown away by the power of the spell. The second male, who was getting ready to cast the stunning spell, immediately looked up, but he was too late.

Harry was quickly upon him, and a string punch to the temple immediately incapacitated the man. He spat at his form, disgusted by what they had planned to do to this poor girl, before slowly helping the girl up from her position. She trembled slightly at his touch, but immediately clung to his arms, as he took her into his embrace.

"Fleur! Fleur!"

He could hear the shouts of a French gentleman, who was slowly coming into his view. The girl in his arms reacted to the voicd, and within seconds, had tackled the man who had been shouting. The man in question pulled the girl into an embrace, before pointing his wand at Harry.

Harry watched as the man threatened him with his wand, before he held up his own in surrender. He would not win, even if he had a quick draw.

"Non, papa, he saved me." The girl muttered towards the middle-aged gentleman, before he slowly let his wand down. The man nodded at Harry, before whisking the girl away.

Harry could only stare as the man quickly disappeared into the crowd once more, leaving Harry and two unconscious men at his mercy. He shook his head, before taking off once more.

As minutes went by, Harry quickened his pace through the surrounding forest. The crowds had dwindled to almost nothing, and the lack of sign of Ksenia worried him too much. Before he could even wander back towards the open field once again, he spotted a red headed girl running towards him. He slowed his pace, before realizing that it was Ksenia, but instead of a happy face, he saw panic etched on her dirt-marred face. And before she could reach him, he saw a green light smash right onto her back, and her form crumpling down onto the ground.

Harry saw red, and immediately ran towards her form, hoping that it was not true. He skidded, and immediately took her head onto his lap, "Ksenia, wake up. Ksenia, please!"

He shook herm trying to wake her from her slumber, and even went as far as using Ennervate. But to no avail. Harry, knowing what had happened, could not stop the tears pouring. He wept for her, for the woman that he had started falling for. He wept, not just for the loss of a partner, but also for the loss of a best friend. And it was then that his grieving was halted by a laugh.

He quickly looked towards the figure that emerged from the misty forest, and quickly aimed his wand at the person. The man in question seemed to not mind, and even went as far as chuckling once more.

"DISPLODO!"

The more powerful exploding charm was sent towards the man, but he batted it away like child's play. Harry growled before sending a few more spells at the man, but everything seemed to either miss or completely shielded by the figure.

"You easily lose your prowess when confronted with grief, Harry Potter."

Harry got up to physically hurt the man, but instead, was at the receiving end of a punch. He felt his face explode with pain, before he hunkered back, poised to strike again. The man seemed amused, before binding a distraught Harry and whispering softly, "The Dark Lord will rise again, and you will have the honour of being his first-blood."

And before he knew it, everything went black. The last thing he saw was a green spell shot towards the sky.


	2. The Funeral

**The Dragon of Durmstrang**

A/N: Taking another shot at writing, and dusting up my skillset. Enjoy my own AU world of Harry Potter as a Durmstrang student, of which I'm sure will be quite interesting indeed. He is, once again, older in this story (17 years old), and will be a seventh year student. Oh, and I also love reading reviews, so feel free to give me your feedback!

 **Chapter Two: The Funeral**

Sirius Black sighed for the nth time as he looked towards the crumpled form of his godson. He knew how it felt, the pain, and the grief that seems to take hold of your whole existence. Death was not one that should be experienced by anyone so young, and full of life. The mere presence of it shattered the fragility of youth, and can send it spiralling down into the abyss, never able to crawl back up.

Luckily, when James and Lily died, he had Harry to latch on to. He swore, after getting cleared of all charges by the Wizengamot, that he would care for Harry as he would his own son, especially since he was the last link to his best friend, James.

He got through it all, despite the slight bumps along the way wherein he had no clue as to how to take care of a child properly. That was when he had asked Kreacher, who finally started helping him. Sirius' relationship with Kreacher was still quite odd in some ways. He had never called Sirius himself 'Master', and instead, addressed Harry most of the time. If he had to, Kreacher would call him 'Traitorous Son', which to him, was honorific in some ways. He was certainly the odd Black out in the family tapestry, and he would never regret any of his decisions, aside from trusting Peter Pettigrew.

Shaking his head, he got up from his comfy seat, before placing a hand on Harry's shoulder, "Harry, we should prepare for the funeral."

Harry grunted, before closing his eyes once more, tears threatening to leak. Sirius sighed, before slowly leaving the room, and giving his godson some space. Harry had been like this for the last two weeks, unmoving and ever changing, while only responding to meal times. Even then, he was mostly recluse, and kept to himself.

Sirius glanced one last time at him, before closing the living room door. He looked around the small hallway, before trudging towards his godson's room.

The house they lived in was located somewhat in central Bern, wherein it was just a little bit more crowded than usual. It was not the mansion type house that Harry would have grown up in if James and Lily were still alive, and they had decided to stay at Potter Manor. Sirius had chosen this place because simplicity had its own beauty in it, and he believed that Harry should be taught that early on.

Glancing around the hallway, he could see some of the memorabilia that had started gathering dust. From a picture of Harry's first broom ride, to Viktor's first visit to their home, he had tried his best to document every special moment that Harry had while growing up. It was his own way of correcting the so-called Pureblood way of raising children, at least, his own experience of growing up in a Pureblood family. The Blacks were never fond of showing their emotions, and tried to uphold that so-called Black Pride even within their own home. Sirius hated that, and vowed from the very start to embody the parenting of James' parents, Fleamont and Euphemia Potter.

Shaking himself from his reverie, he arrived in front of his godson's bedroom door, and slowly pushed it open. He was quite surprised to find the room as tidy as the day they had bought the place. He was sure that Harry's unrestrained emotions would have led to a massive damage to the place. Sirius knew of Harry's strong magical affinity, and would not have doubted if he had, one day, torn down the house because he was upset.

"Kreacher did his best to repair the damages done by Master."

Sirius looked down beside him to reveal the seemingly upset form of the family house elf. Kreacher's eyes seemed to fill with worry, before he suddenly grabbed his floppy ears anxiously.

"Then you definitely did great work, Kreacher." Sirius replied, before slowly pacing towards the slightly opened closet.

Kreacher seemed to scowl slightly, and walked towards the bed, fixing a seemingly askew bed sheet, "Master place an impervious charm around the room, before releasing his pent up emotions. I did my best, Traitorous Son of my Mistress."

Sirius nodded simply, before picking up a black robe, a black scarf, and finally, a pair of dragonhide gloves. He withdrew from the closet, before setting the clothing items down on the bed. Looking around, he finally found what he was looking for.

"Kreacher, can you prepare these clothes and give them to Harry. I'll be following suit."

Kreacher nodded numbly, before disappearing with the clothes in tow. Sirius nodded to himself, before grabbing the ornate box that was lying on top of the dresser. He felt the intricate carvings on top of the item, before lifting it up and carrying it with him. He took one last glance of the room, before slowly retreating from it, closing the door gently.

He slowly trudged towards the living room, hoping that Harry would be ready when he arrived. They were now sparse of time, and he knew that they had to be ready to leave soon. It would not do well to be late for a funeral, especially since Harry is a part of the main component of it.

Reaching the room, he quickly knocked, before getting a grunt as a response. Sirius opened the door, and saw that Harry was putting on his gloves, the last article of clothing that he needed.

"Shall we go, pup?"

Harry looked towards his godfather, before reaching over and grabbing the ornate box from his outstretched hand. He caressed it delicately, before nodding towards his godfather, telling him without words that he was finally ready.

Sirius nodded silently, before gesturing Harry to follow him towards the front door. The house itself was warded so that no apparition could happen to and from the house. Only portkeys worked, and even then, only the tenants of the house could make the portkeys that can be used, in this case, either Harry or Sirius. The portkey to the Quidditch World Cup was set-up by Sirius himself, with the supervision of a Swiss Ministry Worker.

Locking the door with a subtle wave of his wand, Sirius led Harry onto the alley that was right around the corner of their place of residence. Looking back and forth, Sirius finally spoke, "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be." Harry replied softly, before he felt himself being squeezed into a pulp.

* * *

Harry lingered behind the crowd, as everyone seemed to be intent to being in front of the flowing sea of people. The road itself was quite deserted except for the large group, and was narrow enough so that most of them still had to squeeze through each other to make a step.

This reminded Harry of the night, and the crowd, and could only shake himself from his reverie when he espied a picture of Ksenia floating above the heads of her parents. This was the tradition of Nordic Wizarding Families, something that the Sheshukova family were intent to keep true. In fact, the people present today were either a part of the Sheshukova family, or close friends. The sheer amount just told Harry that Ksenia definitely descended from an aristocratic family, and had definitely married into a lot of different families for either business or something else.

He could see that they were now being led into the lakeside, and the procession seems to have slowed down a bit. He could hear mourning all around, painted ladies seemed to have been hired for that purpose. The silence was eerie, and the sobs and cries of the women only intensified the emotions he felt today.

Loss, pain, and grief. He could neither describe, nor define these emotions that seemed to fill him. He might as well pass out now, and let the weight that was burdening him since the incident crush him into dust. In fact, any lesser man would have already succumbed to the easy release of giving up, but Harry Potter was no lesser man. He had endured the private training of one of the most revered Battle Mage, Pyotr Gregorovitch, the Defense Professor of Durmstrang.

Harry steeled himself, as he trudged on with Sirius holding the scattered few in the back of the group. Sirius himself seemed to be looking around discreetly, ascertaining the surroundings while holding on to his wand. He was still quite worried that Death Eaters were tracking Harry down, and that they would attack him during this procession.

Sirius saw his glance, and nodded at him, as if urging him to not get too caught up with him, and instead, focus on what is happening right now. Harry sighed to himself, before edging closer and closer to the front of the line. They had almost reached the lake, and he could see people started to stop and spreading out around the dock area. Harry himself walked forward before steeling his face once more, and standing beside the immediate Sheshukova family members.

Ksenia's mother, whom he had met during his fourth year at Durmstrang, smiled at him softly, before giving him a hug. Harry took her in, before nuzzling his face onto her hair. She sported the same red hue that Ksenia had, and had almost wished that he was hugging Ksenia instead. Releasing her, Harry quickly took the outstretched hand of Ksenia's father, who, like him, sported a grim face. The hand shake was strong, and he could feel the tension in the air.

Harry withdrew first, before settling himself beside Ksenia's mother, away from the eyes of her father. He knew that her father still held a grudge against him, for bringing his daughter to Britain, and getting her killed in the process. Harry could feel his anger, frustration, and sorrow, but he could not do anything about it. All words that needed to be spoken were already said, and this funeral was a way for all of them to let go.

The proceedings went well enough, before the family members started coming up one by one to the hand-carved boat that held Ksenia's body. The Nordic ceremonies were usually quick, and did not dally with the inconsequential. In fact, it had only been two weeks since her death, and the funeral had already been planned within the week, while the ceremonies were delayed because of families coming in from around Europe. Nordic Wizard Traditions state that the earlier the funeral, the easier the passing of a soul into the next adventure, because as long as the body had not been properly cremated, then the soul would still linger on the mortal plain, forever wandering.

Harry knew it was almost his turn, as an Uncle of Ksenia's brought forth a few precious gems, and settling it onto the boat. It was a gift of sorts, something that the departed could take with them, as well as a process wherein the family member were to cut ties with the dead. The belief was that if any personal effects were to remain, then the soul might latch on to it, not willing to go into the next adventure. The gems were, if he had translated the Bulgarian correctly, a part of Ksenia's gown that she had worn during her Uncle's wedding. She had loved those gems, and at the end of the ceremony, had seemingly taken them off and kept them for herself. She was four back then.

Seeing that it was his turn, her slowly moved towards the bank, before cautiously standing beside the wooden boat. He steeled himself even more, setting his Occlumency shields at maximum, before peering into the vessel itself.

There she was, as beautiful as she had been when he last saw her. Her bright red hair sprayed around her as though she were a fiery angel. She was wearing a white dress, and her hands were clasped together near her bosom. She looked heavenly, and Harry almost cracked down at that point.

He looked around, and saw the most of the items were scattered beside her. Glancing towards the crowd, he immediately opened the ornate box he had been handling, and pulled out a small pink handkerchief.

 _Harry screamed in pain as he trudged on towards the infirmary from the Quidditch field. He had been practicing with Viktor and the rest of his team, before he had suddenly lost control of his broom, and smashed into the stands._

 _Viktor was walking beside him, looking worriedly as he could only watch his friend suffer from the wooden stake that seemed to have impaled his friend's arm._

" _Harry, we're almost there."_

 _Harry nodded his head, before deciding that he should not do that again. The pain surged further, and the blood loss seemed to affecting him more and more, making him dizzy. Nodding his head only furthered the damage, and he almost slowed to a stop._

" _Almost there, Viktor. Support me, will you?" Harry grinned lightly at his friend, before leaning on his side. Viktor and him were currently third years, and had recently joined a Quidditch team. There were only four teams in the school, and while unlike Hogwarts wherein you had different house teams, the Durmstrang Institute had no houses, therefore relied on open recruitment for their four teams, which can have any student in it. The Year Tables, and Year Housing, made up for the lack of Houses, in which same year student eat at the same table, and sleep in the same dormitory, much like what the Hogwarts House System had in place. Seven instead of Four, something that Sirius had told him about before he even set foot in this school._

 _Viktor, despite his strength, had trouble in supporting a very lax Harry Potter. And before he knew it, he was leaning too far left, and almost collapsed under the weight._

" _Stop! You will aggravate the wound more if you keep doing that!" A voice suddenly screamed behind them, before Viktor felt the weight of his friend being removed from him. Looking at the new arrival, he spotted the distinct red haired female, and knew immediately that it was Ksenia Sheshukova, a year mate of theirs._

 _Ksenia immediately levitated Harry slightly, before taking a look at his injured arm. "I am going to help you, Potter, but don't scream when I do this."_

 _Simultaneously, she had quickly pulled the stake out of his arm, making him grit his teeth. Harry felt pain too tremendous to even describe before growling to himself. Ksenia immediately knew what to do, and tapped her wand on the wound before shouting, "Episkey!"_

 _Harry could feel the wound getting colder, while the pain subsiding a bit. Ksenia smiled at her work, before taking out a pink handkerchief, which she used to wrap the wound area. Satisfied, she looked up towards Harry before smiling softly, "You should get going to the infirmary. I only slowed down the damage of your wound, but I fear it's too deep for my basic healing spell."_

 _Viktor took that as a sign, before hefting Harry up once more, renewed strength made him more determined to get his friend into safety. Harry could only smile softly at his saviour, "Thank you, Ksenia."_

" _You're welcome."_

Harry slowly placed the item on the boat, right beside the gems that her Uncle had procured for her. He looked at her once more, before grabbing another item from the box, this time, a gold necklace, with a raven-shaped pendant on it.

It gleamed in the sunlight, while Harry caressed the necklace, holding onto the memory that was attached so strongly on to it.

 _Harry was finally finishing his fifth year, and with that, came the final exam he had to take for his extracurricular subject: Battle Magic._

 _The subject itself was lost to Durmstrang, and only under a specific circumstance could the topic be taught once again to a student. First, there must be a Battle Mage trained in the art that is currently a Professor of the school. Second, that Professor must agree to take on a pupil to continue on the Battle Magic tradition of Master and Apprentice, and third, the student must prove to the Professor that he or she is worthy._

 _The first two points have been met, it was only the third that needed to be addressed today._

 _Before turning into the corner that would have led him into the office of Professor Gregorovitch, he was stopped by a hand that held on to his own. He felt the soft touch, before turning around to meet a red haired girl that was smiling her bright smile at him. Harry returned her smile, before placing a soft kiss on her cheek._

" _Ksenia, I will be late for the exam if you don't let me go." Harry whined as he looked at his wristwatch, determining that he only had five minutes to spare before he was truly late._

 _Ksenia took an aggressive stance, before reaching into her pocket, and revealing a golden necklace. She held it high, and quickly said, "Then you better turn around and let me place this on you."_

 _Harry smiled at that, before obliging her. She placed the necklace around him, before kissing the back of his neck lovingly. Harry turned around at that point, and kissed her forehead, before taking a hold of the pendant that was shaped like a raven, and looked at his girlfriend questioningly._

" _That is the house symbol of the Sheshukova, and I want you to carry it around, for good luck."_

 _He smiled at that, before giving his girlfriend another chaste kiss on the lips, "Another way of telling everybody that you have claimed me, hey?"_

 _Ksenia punched him lightly on the shoulder, before ushering him into the Professor's office, "Just go, and do us all proud! I think Viktor has a bottle of Firewhiskey ready for you when you return."_

 _Harry nodded happily, before letting go of his girlfriend's hand and walking with confidence he never knew he had into Professor Gregorovitch's office._

He took the necklace and kissed the raven pendant one last time, before setting it beside the pink handkerchief. Two down, one more to go.

The last piece he had was not his own, but a bracelet that belonged to Ksenia. It was silver in composition, and was carved with dragon markings. It was both beautiful, and terrifying to behold, since the dragon held two very beautiful emerald eyes that sparkled brightly whenever hit by direct sunlight.

 _Harry had taken a leave from his Master tonight, and had specifically asked Ksenia to meet him at a muggle park. He had waited for fifteen minutes already, and he knew that she would be arriving shortly. He just had a habit of arrive earlier than anybody else, something that he was always complimented for._

 _Ksenia arrived wearing a simple sun dress, with flower patterns that made her seem more carefree than she usually was. Catching his sight, she smiled brightly at him, before launching herself towards him in a big hug._

 _Harry caught her deftly, before twirling her around, making her giggle with joy. He was then on the receiving end of a very passionate kiss, something he had been more than willing to be a participant of._

 _Ksenia then stopped both of them, although begrudgingly, before asking, "So, where are you dining me tonight? Some place muggle, I'm guessing from the place you had picked for us to meet?"_

 _Harry smiled at her softly, before nodding. He then led her slowly to the restaurant that he had planned their dinner at, a famous park dining area that more than a few people recommended._

 _They walked into the place, before being sat down at a patio table, with an overlooking view of the lake just right beside them. After both of them ordered, Ksenia quickly launched into question mode, "So, how has your training with Professor Gregorovitch been? Has he finally deemed you ready to transcend Apprenticeship?"_

" _On the reasons for this dinner was just that. Earlier today, Master Gregorovitch just announced that I am finally over with my Apprenticeship, and will be working together with him in perfecting my learned art."_

 _Ksenia smiled brightly at that, before squeezing his hand with support, "That's great news! I can now tell everyone that I am dating a Battle Mage."_

" _And today is also our Anniversary."_

 _She stiffened at that, before slowly standing up and attacking Harry with another passionate kiss, while deftly placing herself on his lap. Harry clutched onto her, before pulling her back slow, "Thought I'd forget?"_

" _Well, I knew you were busy!"_

 _Harry nuzzled on to her neck before murmuring, "I would never be too busy for you."_

 _She smiled at that, before realizing that the people around them were staring ever so slightly. She grinned before hugging Harry more tightly, sparing little glance to the bystanders._

 _Before she could say anything else, Harry quickly grabbed something in his pocket, before showing it to Ksenia, "Oh, and before I forget, I got something for you!"_

" _You shouldn't have! This dinner would have been enough to celebrate today!" Ksenia chided him, before accepting the wrapped gift. She slowly unwrapped the little box, revealing a silver bracelet that was carved into the likeness of a dragon with emerald eyes. It was beautiful, and yet also felt terrifying to behold. It was as if it was alive, and yet it wasn't._

" _The Dragon of Durmstrang has to name his lady now, doesn't he?" Harry smiled her, before taking her hand and putting it on for her. She admired the jewelry, before resting her head on to Harry's chest, sighing contentedly. Dinner was all but forgotten, something that their server seemed to not mind at all._

" _Ksenia, I love you."_

" _And I love you, Harry James Potter."_

Harry shed more than a few tears, before forcing himself to let go of the last remaining piece of memory that he had of Ksenia. The memory itself was raw to him, it happening just a mere month ago. She deserved to be remembered, but not in the way that might hinder her passing into the netherworld. And so slowly but surely, Harry placed the on her wrist once more, where he clasped it tightly.

It was then that he felt something brushing his left ear. Harry strained to scratch it, but was paused by a voice that whispered to him, "It's time to let go, Harry. Promise me."

Harry knew that voice, and replied ever so softly, "I promise."

Ten minutes later, the ship had started sailing, and in another twenty minutes, it was fully burnt to ashes.


	3. The Aftermath

**The Dragon of Durmstrang**

A/N: Taking another shot at writing, and dusting up my skillset. Enjoy my own AU world of Harry Potter as a Durmstrang student, of which I'm sure will be quite interesting indeed. He is, once again, older in this story (17 years old), and will be a seventh year student. Oh, and I also love reading reviews, so feel free to give me your feedback!

 **Chapter Three: The Aftermath**

Pyotr dodged another spell from his duel partner, before casting a shield and taking another dive. He was hard pressed this time, and he knew that his former apprentice was giving his all into this fight.

Looking around, he realized that the last blasting curse was used to create a smokescreen around the room, effectively making him blind to the situation. Luckily, this also means Harry was blind to the surroundings as well, but he definitely would not use this specific tactic if he did not have a plan in mind. This made Pyotr quite wary, and quickly crouched low.

Smoke usually travels lighter on ground level, so it would be wise to use this to his advantage. Any shadow creeping around him would be subject to a torrent of spells, something that he was sure would defeat his current opponent.

"There."

Pyotr smiled to himself, before sending three curses towards the shadow towards his right. One was a stunner, the second was a body bind, and the third was a knock back jinx. Overkill for a simple duel, but enough for him to win. He could see the spells hit the target, which ultimately caused the shadow to fall backwards.

The aged Battle Master smiled to himself, before banishing the dust cloud that seemed to have slowly been dissipating. He looked towards the area where he was sure his student had fallen, before realizing there was nobody there.

That quick realization, followed by his still well-oiled reflexes, saved his reputation. He immediately apparated towards a corner of the room, which was just in the nick of time, because he felt a spell whiz past him just before he disappeared with a crack. He looked towards his previous position, and saw his Harry grinning at him devilishly.

"You seem to be in top form today, Professor." Harry smirked at his former master, before dodging a simple disarming charm.

Pyotr quickly moved to the side, as he felt two successive spells smash into the wall just behind where he was standing a few second ago. He rolled to one side, before quickly chanting in Greek.

The floorboards around Harry seemed to start cracking, before vines seem to burst out of them, entangling Harry without any hesitation. Pyotr smirked at his handiwork, before casting two successive stunners at the seventeen year old Battle Mage.

Harry, for his part, immediately started casting Incendio around him, making a huge flame ball that created a barrier around him. The spells that were fired by Pyotr seemed to dissipate after hitting his ball of flame, sending small sparks that ricocheted off the walls around them. Harry could feel the heat, but kept it on, as the vines seemed to be endless in its attack on him. He could feel sweat starting to weigh on his body, before taking a chance and dropping the fire spell, before casting a "Finite" charm on the floorboards themselves.

"Magnificent spell power, as expected." Pyotr commented while letting Harry breathe for a few seconds. The young man deserved a small break from that power wrenching spell he had just used, well, more so wielded if anything. The fire spell did not usually form into a shield that surrounded the user, which means Harry had full control of that spell, a testament to his more prodigious side.

Harry caught his breathe, before looking towards his former master. He grinned before replying, "All thanks to you, Professor."

Pyotr grinned back before nodding his head. Rest time was over, and now he was ready to settle this for good. Harry, himself, nodded back, before casting a quick spell, which immediately yielded three Harry Potter clones side by side.

The clones immediately cast disarming charms at the aged Battle Master, while Pyotr himself disapparated away. This was one of Harry's trump cards, his mastery over Illusions. He had introduced this branch of magic to the child, and he took it up like fish to water. He did have some difficulty mastering it fully, but two years of practice made him proficient enough to warrant Pyotr's exemplary commendations, and was a part of the reason why his Apprenticeship to him was shorter than what most would require.

Harry was great with spell work, and anything that had to do with the practical aspect of magic. The main problem was, he was not as good when faced with the theory aspect, which Pyotr mostly oversaw during the two years. Most usually, Pyotr would give him the rundown of a specific spell, or branch of magic like the Illusion branch, and he'd struggle with the theories, but exemplify during the practical part of it. He was not perfect by all means, but he was still a Wizard that only came by once a generation.

Pyotr knew what he had to do to win this one, and going head on against his former apprentice would only lead to his defeat. So instead, he started baiting the four Harry Potters. They circled him, making it hard for him to distinguish which was the real one. Most usually, the best way to figure out which one was the real one by letting the spells hit a target, and the one whose spell actually did something would be the real one. The Illusory branch of magic worked in a way that it conjures mirror images of the caster, but these images were merely just that, images. They could do no harm, and were not physically present. If one were to punch an Illusion, they would find themselves not facing any obstacle at all, and more than probably would be quite shocked by it.

Harry knew he had to finish the fight soon, lest his former master find a way to beat him without fail. To do that, he had to confuse Pyotr in such a way that his confusion would lead to him hitting him with his stunning spell. The rule of this duel was to use non-destructive spells, and the most he could use was a low powered blasting curse, which he had utilized for the smokescreen tactic a few minutes earlier. Now, he had used one of his trump cards, something he had been holding back because he had wanted to beat his Professor without this advantage of his.

Pyotr quickly withdrew towards the edge, before pointing his wand towards the ceiling, "Pluvia."

Out of nowhere, clouds seemed to have gathered above them, before raindrops started to fall. Pyotr smirked to himself, intently watching the four Harry Potters that were about to cast another spell at him.

Harry knew of the spell, and pondered for a moment as to what purpose would it serve in this duel. Deciding to leave that at the back of his mind for now, he saw an opening just right after the spell was cast, and Pyotr seemed to have lowered his wand for a moment. He quickly brandished his wand and muttered, "Expelliarmus!"

The spell slowly headed towards Pyotr Gregorovitch, while Harry quickly followed it up with "Incarcerous" for good measure. He was sure of it, he had him this time. Just as the first spell was about to hit the aged Professor, there was a cracking sound, and Harry felt himself losing consciousness.

Pyotr grinned as he finally ended the duel they had started more than three hours ago. The sheer length of the duel spoke wonders to how far his former Apprentice had gone. He had taught him almost everything, almost. He knew enough Battle Magic for him to not need the status of Apprentice anymore, but Harry still needed to learn much more than just the basics. Experience is what he needed, and these duels were the foundations of those experiences.

"Ennervate."

Harry quickly stood up, wand at the ready, and ready to strike. Pyotr chuckled at that, before raising his hands in surrender, "I think I shall take that win today, Harry."

"You always take the win, Professor."

Patting the boy on the shoulder, he quickly conjured two very comfy chairs, before taking one and offering the other one to Harry. Harry nodded in thanks, before grabbing it and taking a seat right across from him.

"I never would have second guessed the rain if I wasn't too intent on winning today." Harry commented before the Gregorovitch house elf appeared and handed both Harry and Pyotr a cup of coffee, and disappearing quickly. Harry blew on his cup, before sipping it with satisfaction. Coffee gave him a sense of relief, and the smell was also intoxicating to him, black coffee more so.

Pyotr relaxed in his current position, before adding a dash of sugar and a milkette to his coffee. He then moved the tray that held the condiments to the side, and started sipping his coffee with delight. After enjoying the hot beverage, he smiled softly at Harry before replying, "I was actually counting on that. I felt your intense concentration on taking me down by brute force, and used that to my advantage."

Harry shook his head, "Well, that just means I will try harder next time. And with more brains ready to analyze all your tactics."

The aged Battle Master nodded seriously, "Did you know how and why I won?"

"Don't patronize me, Professor. I know how you won."

Pyotr shook his head vehemently, before reiterating, "You know that I won, now, tell me the reason that you think made me win."

Harry sighed, "You used the rain to identify which one of us was the real one. The real one would have had his clothes wet, while the rain would have just passed through the Illusions I conjured."

"Yes, and no."

The incoming seventh year looked at his Professor, puzzled. He quickly ran the memory again, and did not find anything else, or anything that he had missed.

Pyotr looked at his apprentice, before explaining, "Harry, I won because I had maneuverability."

"Your apparitions."

"Yes, apparating gave me the leisure of going back and forth throughout this room. Of course, I had the wards down for me to do that, but if this was an outside setting, where real battles take place, apparating would not be warded and I would have supreme control of the battle field." Pyotr started lecturing, taking a sip of his coffee before continuing, "I know that apparition takes a bit of concentration to be able to pull off, but Battle Mages have one thing that most Witches and Wizards don't have: a lot of practice."

Harry shook his head, before standing up, "I know I know, now I have to practice apparition day and night for it to become like second nature, don't I?"

Pyotr smiled at that, before giving him a thumbs up, "Start apparating from corner to corner of this room, we'll gradually amp up the ante as we meet every day."

Sighing, Harry saluted before disappearing with a crack.

* * *

Harry fell into the couch on the living room, before sighing out loud. He had apparated almost the whole day away, and he was nowhere near being able to apparate without too much thought. He always had a few seconds delay, which, in Pyotr's perspective, could get him killed.

The sounds of the city suddenly impacted him, before realizing that it was four in the afternoon, which means most of the people around his neighbourhood would be going to church that day. It was Sunday, and it seems that the people living near him were mostly Christians who celebrated the Holy Mass at their local church. From the children singing and laughing, he knew it was at least four thirty in the afternoon, and the Mass would be starting soon.

That thought immediately was replaced by Ksenia, and her funeral just last weekend. He had been doing good in terms of coping, and he could safely say he would not be moping around very much at all. The grief seemed to still be there, but he was slowly letting her go. The Nordic tradition helped in a way, since all personal possessions were burned with the deceased, effectively severing the aesthetic connection of the loved ones. It made letting go easier, and moving on even more smoothly.

But of course, once in a while, he found himself missing her face, her touch. He lost a loved one that day, and the murderer was still out there. The thought of that masked man enraged Harry, and it took all his Occlumency training to restrain his emotions, and in turn, the magical backlash it would have incurred.

Ksenia had died because of him, and he was unable to save her. That was what pushed him to quickly get back into his Battle Magic training, even under the protest of Pyotr who believed he needed a break of some sort. Harry begged to differ, and even now, he still pushed himself to be better. He would not have a loved one die in front of him again because he was unprepared. No, he would be prepared next time, and he would unleash his fury on the next masked Death Eater he sees.

"Harry."

The Potter heir looked towards the fireplace, to reveal the head of his godfather, watching him with a grin.

"Sirius, what's up?" Harry asked quite intriguingly, since he knew his godfather was still at the Swiss Ministry of Magic.

Sirius smiled at him brightly, before replying quite enthusiastically, "Better floo here quickly, dear godson of mine. You are needed for international business, I might add."

Harry knew Sirius worked as a consultant for the International Relations Department of the Swiss Ministry, and someone needing to see Harry Potter meant it was quite serious. But the way his godfather seems to be acting kind of threw him off. Interviews of what had happened during the Quidditch World Cup by the British Aurors were already done, and he was sure he had not done anything else that warranted the Ministry's attention.

"Alright, I'm coming through." Harry replied, before slowly walking towards the fireplace, and taking a pinch of floor powder.

* * *

Dusting himself slightly, he looked up towards his smiling godfather to reveal another man and a girl standing right beside him. He looked at Sirius inquisitively, before the man right beside him, immediately walked up to him and held his hand out.

"Harry Potter, it is an honour meeting you once again. Certainly better than the last time we met." The man smiled kindly at him.

Harry looked at the man closely, noticing that he was sporting a rather wavy hair that was pulled back. It made the man looked quite regal, and his face shape only did it justice. The angular jaw, and the small scars made him seem like a battle-scarred warrior, and the word Auror immediately popped in Harry's mind.

"I don't believe we've met, sir." Harry politely replied, before taking his hand in a firm shake.

The man smiled kindly at him, before replying, "Oh, I certainly believe it was too dark to even see our faces clearly that night. My name is Sebastien Delacour, the father of the girl you saved that horrifying night."

Harry suddenly realized who he was talking to, and fumbled slightly. Sebastien Delacour was renowned around Europe as being one of the most effective aurors in the field, and made a lot of great changes which effectively made the French Department of Magical Law Enforcement to be the best in the world. Although not a Battle Mage, Sebastien was a known master of Transfiguration.

"Pleased to meet you, Monseiur Delacour." Harry politely replied, before looking towards the girl that was standing right beside the man. He could remember silvery blonde hair that night, but it was nothing compared to what he was seeing right now. Her silvery locks seemed to outshine even the lights in the room. Her face was a perfect heart shape, and her bright blue eyes seemed to capture the attention in the room.

Pulling himself from his reverie, he held his hand out towards the girl, "And pleased to meet you as well, Mademoiselle."

The good thing about Durmstrang was that the students were composed of mixed European descent, so he had definitely picked up some European languages here and there. He was not explicitly proficient in French, but he knew enough to get by.

The girl smiled at him brightly, which Harry hoped would be forever etched into his mind. Her smile made him smile, and he felt that nothing negative could affect him, even a Dementor.

"Fleur Delacour, Monsieur Potter."

Catching himself staring too much, Harry shook his head before bowing slightly. It was quite embarrassing, and Sirius seemed to be lavishing in it, from the looks of his grin. Sebastien seemed to have caught on, before explaining, "My daughter is a fourth Veela, so we understand that you might be affected by her allure. Although, you seem to be composing yourself well enough compared to other men out there." He glanced at Sirius, before continuing, "In fact, your godfather is standing beside me, effectively blocking his view of my daughter, because he could not seem to stop starting at my daughter. I had to intervene, as a concerned father, of course."

Harry burst out laughing, before sticking a tongue out at Sirius. For an almost forty year old, Sirius showed his childish side by sticking his tongue out back at Harry, causing the two Delacours to chuckle lightly at their antics.

"I believe we have to go soon, but I came here with my daughter to thank you for what you did for her. My family and I owe you a debt, and if there is anything you ever need help with, the Delacours will stand by you." Sebastien iterated as he slowly held his daughter closely to him.

Harry knew how much this meant to the Delacours, especially with the vow he just made. Nodding slowly, he replied, "I did what any man should have done, and know that I take your vow seriously."

Sebastien nodded in return, and started to walk away with his daughter in tow, before Fleur quickly decided to run back and give Harry a quick hug. Harry, in consequence, hugged her back. She then placed a small kiss on his cheek before quickly running back to her father's side.

Harry was blushing mad, before Sirius coughed, "That was the French way of saying thank you, Harry. Don't get it into your head."

He looked towards Sirius before grinning madly, "You're just jealous that she kissed me, instead of you."

Sirius punched his godson on the shoulder, before telling him to sit down on to one of the couches he had in his small office. Sirius took his usual position, leaning on his desk, before starting, "The Delacours are formidable allies, Harry. Sebastien will help you with anything, just don't botch it up."

Harry knew what Sirius was talking about. Sebastien holds one of the seats in the International Confederation of Wizards, and is placed near Albus Dumbledore's name when talking about Champions of the Light. He was certainly not someone to be messed with, and Harry knew that.

"So, how was the kiss?"

Harry sighed before throwing one of the small pillows that was lying on the couch at Sirius.

"Hey! Watch where you throw that thing! This face can't be replaced you know." Sirius cried as he blocked the throw. After placing the pillow down beside his desk, he looked at Harry again and asked seriously, "If nothing else, how has coping been lately?"

Harry knew that Sirius was concerned for his mental health. Truth be told, if he did not have his Occlumency, nor the Nordic traditions, then he would be wallowing in grief while clutching onto anything that was previously owned by Ksenia. But without any personal effects of hers, he did not have anything to mourn with besides her memory, and even then, he had promised her that he will move on.

"I've been doing good, better in fact. But, there is this lingering feeling that I am forgetting her, and I am afraid that I will." Harry replied, staring into the floor as though he could pierce a hole through it with his eye sight.

Sirius sighed, since he knew what the young man was going through. The loss of innocence was something he would never have hoped for Harry, but it had been done, and all he can do now was to prepare Harry for the worst that was to come. The mere fact that Voldemort's sign was used made him feel as though war was coming once more, just like the last time he rose.

"You will never forget her, Harry. Letting go is not the same as forgetting. As long as her memory lives with you, you will not do her injustice by moving one with your life." Sirius sagely replied, before trying to lighten up the mood, "And I'm sure she'll be proud of you when you bag that Veela earlier. Fleur, was it?"

Harry grinned slightly, before mischief seemed to shine in his eyes, "I'm sure Monsieur Delacour would be happy to know that you were fantasizing about his daughter again."

Growling, Sirius immediately grabbed the pillow that was thrown at him moments before, and tossing it angrily at Harry, who ducked out of his reach, and flooed back safely to their home.

Sirius smiled softly at the retreating form of his godson, before glancing at the portrait of the Marauders he had on his desk, "James, he sure as hell became a better man than all of us combined."

The James in the portrait grinned back, as if understanding what Sirius had said.


	4. Of Birthdays and Broomsticks

**The Dragon of Durmstrang**

A/N: Taking another shot at writing, and dusting up my skillset. Enjoy my own AU world of Harry Potter as a Durmstrang student, of which I'm sure will be quite interesting indeed. He is, once again, older in this story (17 years old), and will be a seventh year student. Oh, and I also love reading reviews, so feel free to give me your feedback!

 **Chapter Four: Of Birthdays and Broomsticks**

Viktor and Alexei took their time, doing their best in concealing themselves in the room. They both looked around, determining that everything was in order, before each man took one corner of the door frame.

The Bulgarian Seeker brandished his wand, before pointing it towards himself and casting a Disillusionment Charm. He looked towards Alexei, who nodded at him positively, before pointing it towards him and casting the same spell. Viktor admired his work, before feeling satisfied that Harry won't notice them too much when he walks in.

They had been planning this surprise since after the funeral of Ksenia, well, since before it actually. The only difference this time was that Ksenia wasn't here, and she was technically the one planning this for Harry. The mere thought of her still sends chills down Viktor's spine as he remember the happy and cheerful girl that had stolen his best friend's heart. She had been kind, sweet, and innocent, something that he knew Harry needed in his life. To lose that innocence in the face of death was something Viktor would never wish anybody, especially Harry. He knew the blow had hit hard, and it was slowly eating Harry away before the funeral. It was only afterwards that Harry started to heal, and he could see the Harry he knew before being pieced back up together as each day passed by.

Viktor looked towards the wall clock that Sirius had hanging beside the window, and realized that Harry would be awoken by Sirius in a minute, which gave them approximately five minutes before Harry pops into this room, and head towards the kitchen for his favoured cereal breakfast.

Alexei gave Viktor a thumbs up, before looking towards the rest of the assembled motley crew. Their whole Quidditch Team was here, as well as some friends from Durmstrang. The most notable of them was the presence of Ksenia's friends, some of which he knew still slightly blamed Harry for the death of their friend.

The clock struck eight thirty, and right on time, Harry blundered in without any care, grumbling about stupid godfathers and water balloons. He was so distracted that he did not even sense the presence of almost twenty people until after getting his third step. By then, the watered Harry who started to realize the amount of people in front of him, was shocked once more by confetti being thrown over his head and a resounding shout of, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

Harry, himself, was rooted to his spot, before Viktor and Alexei decided enough was enough, and grabbed both of Harry's arms, effectively carrying him over their shoulders. The small crowd seemed to cheer as Harry was paraded by the two men, and were even giving Harry claps on the back. One of the more rowdy Durmstrang student quickly levitated a birthday hat with unicorns splayed all over onto Harry's head, making all the women in the room giggle, and the men laugh out loud.

Sirius walked in onto the celebration, and smiled as Harry seemed to now be taking into the stride the celebration, and was actually pumping his fist as the small gathering started singing the Happy Birthday song. This was one of the few days he could see Harry's true smile coming out, not the fake and strained one that he seemed to still sport every once in a while. He knew that the scars were still fresh, and the wounds would not heal as fast as he would have hoped it would.

The Boy Who Lived smiled as his friends gathered around him, while he slowly got down from Viktor and Alexei's shoulders. He felt somewhat nostalgic once more, reminding him the first few weeks he had spent in Durmstrang. While he was isolated at first, because of some of the whispers that the Pureblood families seemed to harbour, his year mates slowly warmed up to him and the emerging Quidditch star, Viktor. At the end of that same year, he had formed bonds with his year mates, and even some older ones. It had gone better for him from that year, earning the respect of his class mates, especially in Defense class, while flying superbly beside Viktor Krum earned him a spot in one of the Durmstrang's Quidditch team.

He was finally given some room, and the people seemed content to stare at him expectantly. Harry smiled softly, before starting, "Well, I guess I could say this has been quite a shock to me. Especially since I'm wet, and freezing my ball sacks off right now."

Everyone laughed at this, while some of the women either giggled or glared at him playfully. He could only chuckle, before continuing, "But I do appreciate you all coming here, and surprising me like this."

"Hear, hear!" The small group chanted, with Viktor being the loudest.

Harry smirk at them, "I am not usually one to celebrate anything, more so my birthday. And yet, I see all of your faces, and I now know what I hate more than celebrating. It's the smirk on Alexei's face when he seems to have finally pull one over me."

"Hey! You cheeky arse!" Alexei pouted quite angrily, while a girl who looked to be the same age as Alexei, came up behind him and hugged his form. Alexei seemed to smile at that, before giving Harry the finger.

Harry smirked at him, before making kissy noises, which sent most of the people around them laughing, while the girl hid behind Alexei in embarrassment. Alexei, himself, had to hold himself from commenting. He knew anything he might say might pertain to Ksenia, and that was not something he wanted to bring up today.

Viktor clapped Alexei on the shoulder, before gesturing for Harry to continue. Viktor knew that the fragile thread that crosses into the topic of Ksenia can be cut easily, especially with Alexei's tendency to put his foot in his mouth. Harry obliged, "But in the end, seeing you all here just reinforces my belief."

Harry looked around, pausing at each and every face he passes his gaze by, before continuing, "One of the greatest gifts in life is friendship, and I have received it."

Every eye was on him, as he appraised the ones he felt were the most dear friends to himself. He first nodded towards Viktor, his very first friend and the one he was closest to. The second he gazed to was Alexei, a constant reminder that friends can come from the most unlikely place. Lastly, he glanced towards the group of girls that were in his year. That was when he felt sudden loss, and realized why. Ksenia was not there. And no matter what he did, she would never be there again.

The pain was still there, as fresh as the day that she had died in his arms. He could still see her face sometimes, mostly during the night when he was dreaming. Her voice was always there, echoing within the depths of his subconscious, trying to reach out to him in any way possible. It was better these few weeks though, at least, after the funeral. As each night goes by, her voice keeps getting softer and softer, as though the entity was drifting away from him. The weight on his shoulders was still there, but the weight itself was getting lighter and lighter. He knew he had almost let her go, but it was hard, very hard. The memories were still there, her lips were still etched onto his own, and her touch was still imprinted all around him. It was hard, very hard.

And yet, looking around, he knew he would never be truly alone. He looked towards his Quidditch team, and smiled. Their faces showed their support, as they each smiled at him encouragingly. He next glanced towards Ksenia's friends, at least, those who don't still hate him for being the reason their friend is now dead. Their faces showed courage, the type of courage wherein they still trudged on even with one of their own missing. They held their heads high, even though he could definitely see some remnant of tears being shed for their lost friend. He held on to that, a strength that he knew is quite hard to maintain. Finally, he looked towards his two best friends, Viktor and Alexei. Viktor had been his first friend, and his confidant, while he might Alexei when he started playing Quidditch. Alexei had been on the opposing team, but they warmed up to each other after their first match against each other, and was somewhat a rival of his. Both stood by his side, and even now, they still try their best in making him forget all of the pain he had to endure the past few weeks. For that, he was forever grateful.

Harry finally shook himself from his reverie, before gesturing towards the assembled food and drink station right by the wall, "Well, let's not waste this part shall we! Eat, drink, and be merry!"

"Hear, hear!" echoed the small crowd as they finally slowly walked towards the refreshments. While Harry was seventeen, and was now legally able to drink his life to waste with Firwhiskey, Sirius had explicitly forbid both Viktor and Alexei from bringing any, just because there were other guests who were not of age, and Harry didn't like the drink anyway.

Sirius, himself, walked up to Harry before saying, "Great speech there, pup. You'd do good as a politician."

"I'd rather shoot myself." Harry replied, while blanching at the thought.

As the party passed on, several of the crowed had greeted him personally. Most of them brought him either a menagerie of candy, or books, as present for his birthday. He had caught sight of some of the tomes that were definitely of some worth, especially one that talked about Fire magicks. That one had been given collectively by his Quidditch team, who mostly knew of Harry's apprenticeship to their Professor, Pyotr Gregorovitch.

Harry gladly accepted those gifts, and while he did not eat much candy or the sort, he still politely thanked the well wishers. One of the things that Sirius drilled him on during his early youth was manners, most especially, etiquette, something that the Black family seemed to value. That did not come as a shock, especially since everyone knew how particular the Black family were, which made them one of the sharks of the Pureblood society of Wizarding England.

As the party started to wind down, Viktor and Alexei started to grab something from the kitchen. Everybody seemed to have quieted down, and cleared a path for Viktor and Alexei to emerged from. They slowly walked towards Harry, while carrying a long package that Harry knew could only be one thing.

"I know you're excited Harry, and maybe a bit angry that we'd spend this much money on a birthday gift, but please give us time to explain." Alexei said slowly, while trying to calm Harry down. Everyone knew how Harry never appreciated people spending too much on him. There was beauty in simplicity, and Harry was not one to be extravagant.

Viktor took his turn, while handing the gift to Harry. Alexei let go of the gift, before standing right beside Sirius, who had been inching closer to the group. The Bulgarian Seeker glanced towards the two, before starting, "Sirius, Alexei, and I pooled in on this gift, especially since it was not the cheapest to get. Of course, my Quidditch salary could have covered everything and then some." This got some people chuckling, while Alexei looked put out and shouted, "Hey!"

"But we wanted to get something for you that we knew you would love, especially since you have been gushing about this one for almost a year before it even came out in the market." Viktor continued, as he watched Harry slowly unwrap the gift.

The small crowd gasped when they saw what it was. The sleek handle of the broom made it an elephant in the room, and nobody could take their eyes away from the item. The tail, shiny and sturdy, made the broom the fastest in the world. Gold bands encircled the tail to the wooden handle, and the end of the stick itself, was the golden print that shouted, "Firebolt."

"You shouldn't ha-"

Sirius stepped in, "We could, therefore we did. Now, all you need to do is to accept this gift, and fly it around later!"

The crowd chuckled at that, before Harry placed the broom slowly on the ground, and grabbing his godfather into a huge hug. He then went towards Alexei and gave the teenager a fist bump, and finally high fiving Viktor. He then went back to his broom, and gingerly held it in his hands, before shouting, "I have a Firebolt!"

* * *

The winds blew towards the west, and Harry shifted his position to ride the winds. He felt the breeze pick up, and propel him faster than we he had thought he could riding a broomstick. He held himself low, making his flight faster and faster.

"Slow down, Potter! I know you are enjoying your new broom, but we do need you alive for this year's Quidditch matches!" Viktor shouted, as he flew with his best friend.

After his birthday party, Harry had decided that he needed to practice himself with the Firebolt, which meant that he needed to go to Viktor's house and fly in the small field his family owned. The Bulgarian didn't even have a choice, which meant that three hours later, they were both flying around his family's estate, without a care in the world.

Harry heard his friend, before looking back at his form and shouting, "You have a Firebolt, so keep up with me!"

Viktor grunted, before speeding after Harry. The good thing was that Viktor has had practice with his broom, since the company had given the Bulgarian team members a Firebolt each to fly during the Quidditch World Cup. He had more experience with the speed, and the maneuverability of the broom, which made it easy for him to catch up to Harry.

"Hey, that's no fair!" Harry shouted as Viktor flew past him inch by inch.

As the winds shifted, so did Viktor. The Bulgarian Seeker pointed his broom downwards, while spiralling in a corkscrew manner. He speed he was going would have been dangerous, but he had done this manoeuvre too many times that it was second nature to him. Just about a foot from the ground, he quickly raised his broom to a ninety degree angle, successfully finishing the Wrongski Feint.

Harry followed suit, but knew he would not make the same mistake of trying to follow Viktor. So, instead, Harry pulled up at around three feet from the ground, a much safer choice since he was not too familiar yet with his newly acquired broom.

Viktor watched Harry as he landed in front of him, before clapping, "Good decision on that pull, I don't think you would have made it if you had followed my example."

"You don't have to patronize me, Viktor. We all know you are a better flyer." Harry answered back cheekily, before slowly trudging towards the lone tree that stood on top of the hill. He knew Viktor would follow suit, so he continued, "I still couldn't believe you guys got me this."

"We all knew you were getting bored with your Nimbus two thousand, and it was time for our team to get an upgrade." Viktor replied gruffly, starting to get annoyed that Harry had not stopped thanking them.

Harry scoffed at that, "Upgrade? We have won the last four years of Quidditch because of you!" The thought of Viktor's exceptional Quidditch skills made the other three teams quiver, and they have even tried to get Viktor out of the school teams, saying that him being a professional was not fair. The only problem to that was that the current Highmaster of Durmstrang was a sucker for Viktor, and he just wouldn't do anything that would upset Viktor. Igor Karkaroff was a social climber, someone that most of Durmstrang hated.

Arriving at the base of the tree, Harry slowly sunk down on to the trunk, and relaxed himself. Viktor took the place beside him, placing his broom in between them. They both sighed, as the afternoon sun seemed to slowly descend towards the horizon. The breeze was still there, and it soothed the muscles of both teens.

Harry looked towards the cloud formations, taking the natural beauty around him quite well. He always enjoyed nature, and all that it provided. It was what drew him to trying his hand at Battle Magic, a discipline that utilized the natural energies to its fullest. In fact, the only way that Harry could do the amount of spells he could was because he was able to use the magic around him, instead of relying on his own core. It was an obscure branch of magic, and mastering it took a lifetime, and Harry could only boast that he had learned the basics, which is a feat on its own.

"So, how are you coping?"

The question reverberated to him, and he took his time to answer. He knew that everyone in the party was somewhat cautious around him, especially trying to dodge the subject of Ksenia or 'relationship'. He was grateful, of course, since it made the day easier for him, but the thought that he was now celebrating his birthday without his girlfriend hurt him, like a knife wrenching in his gut.

"I'm coping, at least, better than I thought I would." Harry replied, truthfully, before sighing.

Viktor grunted, before continuing, "Just don't wallow in your grief, she would never have wanted that."

He could almost feel himself lashing back. How could he know what she would want? She was dead, and no one could ever know what she was thinking, or feeling. And yet, the last words he had heard echoed back into his mind. She wanted him to let go of her, and continue on with his life. To continue living without her, now that was something he knew would be harder than he thought it would.

"I'm doing my best, don't worry too much about me, Viktor." Harry chuckled, trying to clear the air between them. He slowly got back up, before mounting his broom, "Now, show me what the Bulgarian National Seeker could do against the famed Dragon of Durmstrang!"

* * *

Dusting himself from the floo powder, he slowly trudged towards his room. He had flown almost the entire day, and while it might not seem hard to spectators, it definitely takes a toll on the body. His arms aching, and his legs shaking, he knew he would not be doing any extraneous exercise any time soon.

Sirius must've heard the floo going, since he seemed to have taken his time from his usual night readings in the library to meet him by the hallway, "Hey pup, this came for you today."

Harry nodded at Sirius tiredly, before grabbing the small package in his hand. He nodded at Sirius before replying, "Too tired, g'night Padfoot."

The last Black chuckled softly, before closing the library door and retreating back inside. He knew Viktor always runs Harry to the ground when they were flying, especially since Viktor was a Professional Standard Player, and their trainings were usually rough, something that Harry was just not used to.

Harry got to his room, and jumped into his bed, not even bothering taking his Durmstrang shirt off. He closed his eyes slowly, before opening them wide again, realizing that the package he had received was poking him on his stomach.

Grabbing the package, he slowly unwrapped it only to reveal a smaller box and a letter. The placed the letter aside for the moment, and opened the box slowly.

His first impression was awe, and then curiosity. Placing the box aside, he quickly opened the letter that accompanied the gift before reading:

 _Dear Harry Potter,_

 _Happy Birthday! Well, at least I hope this arrives in time for your birthday. My family was quite adamant that we bought you something, but we did not know what to get, so Papa had talked to your godfather, and they both decided that the watch would be good for you._

 _I think Sirius said something about it being a gift given to all seventeen year olds in England, at least, it seems to be a tradition on the island. Your godfather was going to get you one, but since we were still looking for a gift, he felt we should be the ones giving you this particular piece._

 _I want you to know that I am truly grateful for that night, and that my life would not have been the same if you had not saved me. I do hope that our recent meeting would not be our last, and hope that we could become friends._

 _Once again, Happy Birthday!_

 _Fleur Delacour and Family._

Harry finished the letter, before smiling softly. Placing it on top of his bedside table, he then pulled out the watch that he had gotten from the Delacours. The strap was simple leather, while the watch itself seemed to be made of gold. It was simple, and the only part of it that seemed more lavish was the silver fleur de lis that adorned the center of the watch itself. He carefully inspected the piece, before trying it on.

After inspecting it some more, he finally took it off and placed it right beside the letter. He would have to reply to Fleur, to thank her and her family. As well, he was quite excited by the prospect of having a Veela friend, even though she was only a quarter blooded one. Veela magic were definitely one of the most mysterious, and coveted, and their culture was nothing to be laughed at.

Closing his eyes, he felt himself submerge into sleep, with thoughts of the near future encompassing his dreams.


	5. Back To Durmstrang

**The Dragon of Durmstrang**

A/N: Taking another shot at writing, and dusting up my skillset. Enjoy my own AU world of Harry Potter as a Durmstrang student, of which I'm sure will be quite interesting indeed. He is, once again, older in this story (17 years old), and will be a seventh year student. Oh, and I also love reading reviews, so feel free to give me your feedback!

 **Chapter Five: Back to Durmstrang**

Harry pulled himself up from his reverie, before grabbing the last items he would need for his last year in Durmstrang. It was both quite exciting, and terrifying, as he would be leaving the sanctuary he had claimed for seven years, and would now be a part of the world at large. He was not sure if he was fully ready, but he intended to make great leaps when he did step out of the shadow of Durmstrang Castle.

Taking one last look through his room, he decided he had packed everything, and started to roll his trunk out. Before he could even take the third step, Kreacher seemed to have popped out of nowhere and started, "Master does not need to roll his stuff! Kreacher will help, Kreacher is a good elf of Master's!"

With a snap of his fingers, Kreacher had effectively transported the trunk, and Hedwig's cage onto the living room, where Sirius was waiting for him. Harry could only sigh, before patting the House Elf on the head, "Thank you, Kreacher, but you know you didn't need to do that. It's not that rolling that damn trunk would have been hard anyways!"

Kreacher grunted, "Master needs to conserve his energy! Kreacher has heard Traitorous Master's conversations through the floo, and Kreacher is sure that Master will be taking part this year."

Harry's curiosity was piqued for a moment, "Taking part in what, exactly? And how have you been eavesdropping into Sirius' conversations? I thought you hated him?"

The House Elf primped himself up proudly, "Kreacher was cleaning the living room, when he heard the conversation. Kreacher knew Master might be joining, so he had to learn as much as possible!" It was then that Kreacher started to belch, "But Traitorous Master caught Kreacher listening, and made Kreacher vow not to tell Master what he had been talking about with Bowler Hat man through the floo."

"It's fine Kreacher, I'm sure I should know soon enough." Harry smiled at the elf, before slowly walking towards the living room. Harry knew of only one man who wore Bowler Hats these days, and that was Barty Crouch from the English Ministry. He had met the man once, when he had visited Sirius' office and Mister Crouch seemed to have been relaying information about the English' foreign policy changes. The man, from his first impression, was quite gaunt and scary, which deterred Harry from ever going into any conversations with him. Truth be told, Sirius seemed to not like the man, so him having a conversation with Mister Crouch was quite odd indeed.

His thoughts about what Kreacher told him were set aside when he finally reached the living room. Sirius was standing there, wearing his best robes. Harry scoffed at that, before asking, "Are you still trying to pick up single moms at the carriage station?"

Sirius grinned at that, before fixing his supposed bowtie, "Of course! What better way to get to know the vast culture of Europe than to meet and greet the natives! I hope there would be Greeks this year, since their culture is quite…amorous."

Harry shook his head, before slowly walking towards the fireplace. He took a deep breath, grabbed his trunk and Hedwig's cage, and took a pinch of floo powder. Taking a step into the unlit fireplace, he threw the powder onto the floor and shouted, "Durmstrang Station!"

* * *

Dusting his brown cloak, he stepped out of the fireplace he had been transported to, and walked towards the side. The station itself was filled with people milling about left and right, with students chatting amiably with their own families or friends. It was a classic themed train station, with one wall lined up with fireplaces. The fireplaces themselves seemed to spit out people every few seconds, a testament to the amount of people coming in and dropping off their kids.

From the descriptions given by his godfather, the trip to Hogwarts was almost the same as the trip to Durmstrang. The only difference was that Durmstrang had its own train station, while Hogwarts had to share with the muggle one. As well, it seems as though there was no direct floo to the Hogwarts Express, while the European Magical Union built this station solely for the purpose of educational transportation, which means it had everything from apparition points to fireplaces for floo travel. This was one of the nexus of magical education, therefore the European Magical Union definitely placed a lot of effort and time in making everything smooth for families and students alike.

The European Union's great emphasis on education was what really pushed Sirius to moving to Switzerland. The atmosphere was different, and the corruption was almost nonexistent. Although there was the stigma of Durmstrang only accepting Purebloods, and Halfbloods, the rumours were definitely untrue, since Harry has met more than a handful of muggleborn students studying at Durmstrang. Of course, most muggleborns tended to deviate towards other institutions around Europe, but the history and splendour of Durmstrang Castle held prestige above the rest save Beauxbatons and Hogwarts.

"Harry!"

Harry turned around to reveal one of his more close friends, Anna. She smiled softly at him, before giving him a small hug, which he reciprocated. The shorter girl, smiled up at him, before looking around, "Your godfather isn't here, is he?"

"No, you're safe for now, Anna." Harry chuckled, as he gazed at his female friend. She had been sporting her hair into Russian braids recently, and today was no exception. Her blonde hair was evenly split into two, and both braids seem to hang on her shoulders and resting on her chest. Her cute heart shaped face melted even the most hardened men, while her bright green eyes showed wit beyond what most would attribute to her. She was definitely a good looking girl, and nobody could deny it.

Anna smiled at him, before clinging on to his arm, "So, ready to find those two lugs you like to hang out with?"

Harry chortled at that, realizing that both Viktor and Alexei would definitely be considered lugs. Both men were tall, thin, and gaunt looking, with Alexei being the softer of the two. Viktor tended to scowl a lot, while Alexei was the happier of the two. He smiled at the thought of his two friends cowering from Anna's glare, since he knew they could never do anything against her. She was like a sister to them three, whom they swore they would beat any guy who had the balls to ask her out.

"You do know that Sirius hits on older ladies these days, right?" Harry asked, while he steered both of them through the crowd, his trunk in two, "He promised that he won't try his luck on you after the last time."

Anna growled at the thought, "Well good for him. He doesn't understand that Durmstrang students only go for the celebrity sort." She then grinned up at him, "Like Viktor, and Alexei!"

Harry faked pouted at that, "And how about little old me?"

"Hmm, Harry James Potter, the Dragon of Durmstrang and the Boy Who Lived?" She made a face that seemed to convey that she was contemplating about it, "You're not celebrity enough for the girls, quite sadly."

Just before Harry could reply, Viktor seemed to have materialized out of nowhere and grunted, "What is this I hear about Harry and girls? Isn't it too early for those fangirls to be asking for Harry fathering their children? I had thought they do those during Spring."

Accompanying Viktor seemed to be Alexei, who was laughing out loud at Viktor's statement. The mention of fangirls made Harry look around in fright, while Anna seemed to cling on to him more tightly, eyeing the female population around them warily. Ever since Viktor and Harry came unto the spotlight of being great Quidditch players, some of the girls at school seemed to have formed a coalition to try and snag Harry Potter and Viktor Krum. That got worse when they had caught wind that Harry was the infamous Dragon of Durmstrang, a story that was circulated because of that one little incident during his training with Professor Gregorovitch. Nowadays, the group seemed to be getting more aggressive, a fact that Harry and Viktor were cautious about.

Harry sighed warily, before taking the conversation elsewhere, "So, Alexei, where is the girl you were cavorting with during my birthday?"

Anna seemed to have let Harry go from her ministrations, and was now talking to Viktor about his summer. Alexei smiled at them, before turning to Harry, "Just a summer fling. Alexandra seemed too clingy for my taste anyways."

The look on Alexei's face betrayed his real feelings, as he seemed to shake his head slightly at the thought of the girl that was hanging on his arm just a few weeks ago. Alexei was always the guy who had no problems with women, the exact opposite of Harry, who was courted by Ksenia and not the other way around. It was sort of the joke, where the Dragon was tamed by a Nordic beauty.

Anna seemed to have caught wind of the conversation, "I guess I should have a chat with Alexandra tonight, then? Couldn't handle a girl a year younger, Alexei?"

Alexei scoffed at that, "It's because you're more than a handful already, Anna. Your year mates just don't quite cut it when compared to you."

The sixteen year old girl stuck her tongue at him, before sprinting away, presumably to find her own group of friends. Harry sighed at her, before Viktor spoke up, "I still wonder how she became so close to us."

Harry looked towards him, before replying, "It's because we were there when she had no one. And now, she's our honorary little sister."

"Your honorary sister, more so, Harry. She hangs around with us because she has to." Viktor replied gruffly, setting on his surly mood once again.

At that point, the train seemed started whistling, which signified the departure. Alexei waved towards his family, before leading the way towards the entrance of the train itself, with Harry and Viktor following slowly. Before getting on the train itself, Harry looked back towards his godfather, who seemed to already have a middle-aged woman hanging on his arms. He winked at Harry, before waving a short one goodbye.

Harry shook his head, before waving back. Alexei grabbed him on the shoulder, before asking, "Front or back?"

Viktor answered for them, "Back, it'll take them more time to try and find us."

"More so you, Viktor."

Harry smirked at that, and started their trek down the train with his trunk in tow. Some of the students who have either been to the World Cup, or follow Quidditch religiously, could be seen staring as Viktor passed by their compartment. They awe was still there, and Harry knew the stares were not going to stop any time soon. It was always like this though, this time, it was just multiplied by a thousand fold. Being part of the National Team was not something to scoff about, but catching the snitch at the finals of the World Cup elevated his star status farther than what most would have imagined, or even dreamed. Viktor is once again on the pedestal, something that Harry does not envy him for.

"Hurry up, this is getting too bothersome." Viktor muttered to the two, putting on a scowl that would have made anyone run away with fear.

Alexei took pity on Viktor, and quickened his pace. It took almost five minutes before they finally found a compartment that was empty. Viktor took his position first, taking the window seat and sitting down without so much a word. Alexei shook his head, while Harry could only sigh. Viktor hated all the attention, but loved the sport too much to give up. It was a paradox, which Harry, quite sadly, could not help him with.

Harry took his own window seat, leaving Alexei to man the door. Alexei, sighing at his predicament, took out his wand and cast a notice-me-not charm, making it so that nobody disturbs them on this trip, their last trip together to Durmstrang.

A moment of silence was shared between them, before Harry started, "So, our last year in the god forsaken castle."

Viktor grunted, "One last year of gawking before I can hide myself. I hate fans."

Harry and Alexei laughed at that, before Harry answered, "Fans makes your fame viable, you now that right?"

"That doesn't mean I have to like them one bit."

* * *

The station was filled with students walking left and right, while the first years were immediately herded towards the first carriages that will take them towards the school earlier than the older years.

Sirius once told Harry that first years were taken to Hogwarts proper by the use of boats that gave the students a grandiose view of the school. He explained that it gave the school an ethereal look, and made the students even more excited about the prospect of living and studying at Hogwarts. The only problem Harry saw in that was the lake itself, since it inhabits more than a few dangerous creatures. Well, that, and the unusual storm that might just make it a tad but wet for the youngsters. Although, Harry cannot disagree that Hogwarts is quite a sight, at least, from the pictures that Sirius had shown to him.

Harry walked quickly towards one of the empty carriages, gesturing to Viktor and Alexei to hurry along. Taking a seat inside, he relaxed himself as he prepared to enjoy his last trip to Durmstrang. He liked the school well enough, but the atmosphere, not so much. It had a gothic feel to it, a mysterious and yet dark atmosphere that Harry did not feel truly welcome.

After Viktor and Alexei sat inside, the carriage started moving on its own, with the three seventeen year olds staying silent the whole way. All thoughts lay on the year ahead, and how slow and terribly tedious it would be. The last year was always the worst, and yet, the best one yet.

Arriving at the castle itself, Harry let his two friends first, with him bringing the rear. The staircase towards the great hall were wide, which made it easier for the influx of students to ascend towards their usual congregating area.

Walking in, the hall itself was decorated quite nicely. From brass, silver, and gold items, it was richly adorned with everything a castle would have normally. The seven tables were lined parallel to one another, from left to right, the years were arranged in a way that the first years were tabled to the left and so on. Harry took in the sight, before slowly trudging towards the rightmost table, where most of the people he called friends had already sat down and claimed their rightful spots.

Viktor, as usual, chose the endmost position, nearest to the door. Harry conceded, and sat beside the Bulgarian Seeker, with Alexei seating right across from him. They watched as the great hall was suddenly full of life, but slowly and surely, the excitement died down to a minimum almost half an hour later.

As the silence set in, the teachers started to walk in. Their procession was always a sight, since they were mostly clothe in their best robes, something that Durmstrang traditions held quite highly. Leading the procession was always the Highmaster or Highmistress, and for the course of nine years now, it had been Igor Karkaroff.

Their Highmaster looked quite primped up, walking head held high and cane thudding resoundingly. Igor Karkaroff stood by the podium, while the rest of the professors immediately sat down. The Highmaster looked around, observing each and every face in the hall, before setting his gaze on Harry, before moving lastly to Krum. He seemed to smirk, before he started his start of the year speech.

"Good evening, students old and new. With a new year, comes a chance for each and every one of you to excel and make Durmstrang proud."

Karkaroff looked around, as if he had said something really smart. The students, well at least most of them, learned to ignore their Highmaster's speeches, especially since it held nothing whatsoever.

The Highmaster nodded to himself, before smirking, "But before I start the feast, I must announce something that may interest the sixth and seventh years."

He paused for a moment, making it seem he was being dramatic, "With talks between Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, as well as Beauxbatons academy of Magic, the Durmstrang Institute will be sending students to compete in the Tri-Wizard Tournament."

There were gleams of eyes, as some people knew of the event, while others were quite lost. Harry, himself, knew nothing of the event, so he tried his best to hang on to Karkaroff's words.

"The Tournament is a set of three tasks that a champion of each school will be competing in. Eternal glory, and a prize of a thousand galleons for the winner, and most importantly, school pride. I will be sending out invitations to the students that will be handpicked to get a chance to represent Durmstrang Institute." He paused for a moment, taking another glance at Viktor, before continuing, "Only one will be chosen by the Goblet of Fire, and it will be taking place at Hogwarts. So, the chosen few will be taking a journey to Hogwarts, and will be staying there the whole duration of the tournament. Classes will be given there by a few professor, so that no interruption in the education of the contestants will happen."

Harry felt himself become excited at the thought about competing, and even more at possibly seeing Hogwarts. While he was not particular with England, more so the English Ministry, Hogwarts was a hub of magical knowledge, which made it quite interesting to Harry. He also knew that the famed Albus Dumbledore resided at Hogwarts, someone that Harry would like to meet personally. The wealth of knowledge and power within that school was boundless, something that he would not mind spending time in English soil for.

The feast began, and Alexei partook in it quite gladly. Harry took a few bite of the roast beef, before starting, "How much would you bet that Karkaroff already has his champion in mind, namely Viktor Krum."

Viktor shrugged at that, before grabbing a chicken leg and munching on it slowly, "The Highmaster has quite an obsession on me, something that makes it quite disturbing."

"Too true, but I'm quite sure Harry will be a part of his entourage as well. We all know how much boasting he has done when Harry Potter enrolled in his fine establishment." Alexei added, taking a breath from eating, "Harry Potter and Viktor Krum, Igor Karkaroff's dynamic duo."

Harry laughed at that, before replying, "I'm sure you'll be a part of his entourage too, especially with your strong inclination to potions."

Alexei scoffed, "Potions can only carry so much weight around the world. I'm not sure I would not be able to compete against a Battle Mage, and a world famous Quidditch player."

"At least you can brew a Pepper-Up Potion better than mine, couldn't wake up a fly." Viktor added, trying to make Alexei feel a bit better.

Alexei only shrugged, and that ended their conversation. The first night was always the most annoying, with first years trying to go to their table and engage either Viktor or Harry in small talk. The fame fanaticism does tend to taper off after a few days, when they get the notion that neither Harry nor Viktor didn't like getting bothered very much.

As the feast subsided, the first years were finally led off by two seventh year students. The two were usually a boy and a girl handpicked by the Deputy Highmaster. They acted as guides, and counsellors for the younger students, which in turn gave them great commendation letters to whichever career they find themselves going into after their seventh year.

Harry, himself, stood up and started to leave the hall, with Viktor and Alexei in tow. As they walked towards the seventh year tower, Viktor suddenly started, "So, who do you guys think will be chosen as the school champion?"

"Either you or Harry, that I'm sure of."

Harry smiled at that, "All I know is that I am quite excited being chosen to go to Hogwarts. It was the alma mater of my parents, and the school itself holds knowledge beyond what we have in this place."

"Why am I not surprised! Harry Potter with his studious persona coming out in the open once again!"

"Shut it, Alexei!"

Alexei and Viktor chuckled, as Harry led them higher and higher towards the tower. The years are separated into seven living quarters; the first years being nearest to the first floor, with each year following the ascension. The seventh years get the best piece of cake, while the first years get the ease of coming and going from their classes.

As they arrived, the door to the common room revealed itself, and Harry pushed in. Most of the seventh years were already in their respective rooms, making it feel as much like home as possible. Harry, himself, walked towards the door that had his name on it: 'HARRY J. POTTER'

"Night, guys." Harry nodded towards Viktor and Alexei.

"Nighty night."

"Goodnight."

Harry walked into his room, before closing the door softly. Looking around, he could see that most of the items were quite Spartan. A bed, a desk, a chair, and a closet. Walking towards his trunk, he decided that unpacking would be done tomorrow, and laying on the bed would be the best choice. While Harry loved that he now had a room for himself, it still was quite disappointing that only the seventh years are allowed this priveledge. For the past six years, he had been sharing a dorm room with seven of his year mates, and only when you reach your seventh year do you get your own room. It was blatant favouritism on the part of the school, but then again, the argument has always been that the seventh years needed more space to study for their finals, a valid point, if anything.

Taking off his watch, he admired the craft of the item, and caught himself thinking about the piece in the middle. Fleur de lis, the lily flower. Fleur. Fleur Delacour. He smiled at the thought of the girl, and found himself admiring the thought of her.

And that was how he slept, images of one Fleur Delacour smiling cutely at him, which was then overshadowed by a red-headed girl nodding at him encouragingly.


	6. To Hogwarts and Beyond

**The Dragon of Durmstrang**

A/N: Taking another shot at writing, and dusting up my skillset. Enjoy my own AU world of Harry Potter as a Durmstrang student, of which I'm sure will be quite interesting indeed. He is, once again, older in this story (17 years old), and will be a seventh year student. Oh, and I also love reading reviews, so feel free to give me your feedback!

A/N 2: Looking for a beta reader!

 **Chapter Six: To Hogwarts and Beyond**

The ship rocked back and forth, as they set sail for Scotland.

Viktor grumbled at the motion, before slowly retreating to the assigned bunkers that they were given. He might be a prodigious Quidditch player that came once in a century, but boats and he simply don't agree much, especially ones that are moving turbulently like the Durmstrang one at the moment. It wasn't that he hated boats, no, it was the boats that hated him.

Going below ship, Viktor walked past three rooms, before hearing a thudding sound inside the room to his left. He looked at the ornately carved door, before reading the name plate: "H. J. Potter."

Getting more curious, he pushed the door in slowly, trying to make himself as inconspicuous as possible. Looking in, he immediately saw Harry taking another nail from his small bag, before placing it on a portrait of some sort, and banging it with a hammer. Harry was so concentrated on the motions, that Viktor was able to sneak just right behind him, and asked loudly, "What is this?"

Harry jumped up in fright, before looking towards his friend pointedly, "Didn't your mother or father ever teach you to knock?"

Viktor shrugged, "I thought you might be banging one of the girls, but apparently you were doing something less fun."

"Our young Viktor Krum, a closet pervert." Harry smirked, before continuing his manual labour.

"I just wanted to know who the unfortunate girl was." Viktor replied back smirking, "So, why are you hanging a poster of half-naked women on motorcycles using nails? There is a spell called the Sticking Charm for a reason."

Harry finished the last one, before taking a step back and enjoying the view. He nodded at his work, before looking at Viktor, "Sirius gave me the poster when I turned eleven, it holds some value to me, even though he was the biggest pervert I would ever get to meet. Sirius also warned me about using the Sticking Charm, since it apparently fades a muggle photo over time."

He tossed the hammer towards the bag, "Plus, I know how old this dinghy is, and our esteemed Highmaster would just love seeing one of the bunks having holes on the walls after this bloody tournament. Serves him and the school right for fucking picking me as one of the thirteen."

Viktor nodded at that, before observing the poster once again, "He chose you because he wants to parade you under Dumbledore's nose, especially since you turned down Hogwarts for Durmstrang."

"Don't think he won't do the same for you, he just loves having the International Quidditch Star of Bulgaria studying in his prestigious school."

Viktor grunted, before walking out slowly, "Dinner is in twenty minutes, don't be late."

Harry smirked before saluting, "Aye aye, captain."

As the door shut behind Viktor, Harry let out a huge sigh, before walking back towards the hanged poster. Brandishing his wand, he slowly cast, "Finite."

The photo started to change, slowly turning into a black and white portrait of a man and a woman. The man seemed to sport a very messy set of dark hair, with round glasses framing his sharp and angular face. The woman, who was hugging the man tightly beside her, had seemingly bright hair, with a pair of soft eyes. The couple smiled at Harry, before kissing each other. Harry waved back, and smiled at the happy couple that was forever immortalized in the ever so lifelike photo.

"Hi mum, dad."

In Durmstrang, it was power that reigned supreme. You have to show a very staunch and powerful personality, without revealing in chinks in your armour. This photo, more so portrait, if ever found by anyone else, would have been the chink in Harry's well-made armour. His enemies in school would have done their best in stealing this portrait, just to get back at Harry. Pureblood supremacist and their irk still populate the halls of Durmstrang quite heavily, and they wouldn't hesitate in getting at Harry, especially since fighting against one another is extremely prohibited in Durmstrang. A militaristic school does have its advantages, especially when instilling discipline.

Taking one last look at the photo, Harry quickly moved all his belongings towards the small cabinet that he had been given. He grabbed a towel, before going into the small bathroom that was available in every room for the thirteen students that were chosen to represent the school. He took of his clothes quote haphazardly, before turning the knob of the shower. Water was always quite soothing to Harry, especially warm water.

The slowly stream that hit Harry made him sigh in relaxation. His thoughts turned to the tournament, and how the choosing of the thirteen went.

 _Alexei walked towards the seventh year tables with a smile on his face. Tonight was the night that Highmaster Igor Karkaroff was announcing the thirteen student who would be the delegates to Hogwarts, and he was sure his two friends were shoo-ins._

 _Harry caught Alexei's eyes, before waving him down towards their position. Viktor had already taken his customary spot beside Harry, which left Alexei's spot right across from them._

 _Viktor nodded at his friend, before staring intently at the Professor's table once more. Harry smirked at that, before starting, "Viktor doesn't seem to like being chosen, especially after the talks of going there by boat was started."_

 _Alexei smirked at that, "Our Quidditch hero? Afraid of boats? How scandalous!"_

 _Harry grinned, before patting Viktor on the back. The Bulgarian only shook his head, "It's not that I hate boats, it's that they hate me. With passion, I might add."_

 _His statement caused the two to laugh loudly, making them the centre of attention. Harry grinned, "Well, there are thirteen spots, and since Viktor and I will be sure to join, that means there will be eleven more spots open."_

" _Those eleven will only be fillers, for sure." Alexei grinned, "I mean, come on. We all know how talented you are with Battle Magic, Harry. And Viktor has one of the more powerful spell casting I have seen in our year. Both of you represent the strength that Durmstrang embodies, which is why you both will be the only true contenders for this tournament."_

 _Alexei's dribble seemed to have upset some of their year mates, in particular, Yosef. Yosef Dragunov was one of the pureblood elitist that still inhabit the halls of Durmstrang, with his origins coming from mainland Russia. His family has controlled one of the most successful warding business in that country, but few tend to notice that they were the only warding business in Russia. Their competitors seemed to have either vanished, or have left the country._

" _We will need more than pansies to represent Durmstrang, Alexei." Yosef scoffed, earning the support of some of their year mates._

 _Alexei stood to get up, but was beat by Viktor who snapped, "You're quite knowledgable about pansies, Yosef. Are you keeping something from us all these years?"_

 _Yosef growled at that, and was about to grab his wand, but was stopped by his girlfriend, Anastasia. The Jung heiress apologized with a soft nod, before kissing her boyfriend on the cheek, seemingly settling him down._

 _Alexei shook his head at that, "I don't know why Anastasia keeps him, he is a brute, an uncivilized monkey."_

" _Some can say the same thing about you, Alexei." Harry jibed, before continuing, "Lusting after another man's girlfriend might not be a crime, but you best not do anything to jeopardize your family's name again, especially after the debacle with the Hodiak twins."_

 _Alexei smirked at that, "It was worth it."_

 _Harry nodded in agreement, but was cut off from replying when Igor Karkaroff took centre stage. Igor looked around, before settling his eyes once again on Viktor before beginning, "As you may well know, tonight is the night that we reveal the thirteen who will be representing Durmstrang in the Tri-Wizard Tournament."_

 _Igor paused dramatically, before continuing, "Those who are chosen will immediately go back to their rooms, pack up, and subsequently wait at the docks with the professors. Their dinners will be served inside the ship, so there will be no need to eat before going."_

 _Harry looked towards the sixth year table, spotting Anna who seemed to be quite anxious. He knew she wanted to be part of the delegates, since her seventeenth birthday was a week ago, which meant she was eligible. But what Alexei said was true, Durmstrang will want someone who embodied the strength that it portrays, and he could only name a handful of those who exemplified with that quality._

 _Moving towards one of the professors, the Highmaster took the sheet which had the list of names. The Highmaster seemed to scan the list once more, before starting, "When I call your name, immediately do as instructed earlier. Viktor Krum. Harry Potter. Yosef Dragunov. Anastasia Jung. Clara Ivanova. Lev Zograf. Stoyanka Grozda. Nikola Vassileva. Tina Lundstrom. Lorre Gustaffson. Bruno Brunnhart. Katrina von Glockenspieler. Elena Eldritch."_

 _Alexei looked put out, but nodded as both of his friends were chosen. Harry and Viktor nodded back, before taking his hand in a shake, and walking towards their rooms and packing everything they owned. While walking towards their rooms, it was Harry that spoke up, "Eight girls, and five boys. That's the first I've seen that Durmstrang favoured the feminine gender."_

 _Viktor nodded, "From the looks of the Highmaster's face while announcing each name, he was definitely not the one who made the list. The Professors are more fair in this matter, that I'm certain."_

" _I guess they saw that Academic excellence, and being great at spell work was their best go-to when choosing the representatives. The names they chose were the top of our year, with Elena and Katrina being the top students for sixth year. Alexei never stood a chance."_

" _Potions seems to not be a favoured subject this time." Viktor agreed, before splitting off towards his room to pack._

 _Harry took to his own room, and waved his wand in a swish to pack everything up. He had been expecting to be chosen, and was more than ready to go. He would definitely miss this room, since he had only used it for almost two months, simply not enough to enjoy the privacy that it provided. Although, if he had heard the gossip mill correctly, the ship had separate quarters for the thirteen students with adjoining bathrooms to boot. It was a good trade-off, at least, Harry thought so._

Harry was shook from his reverie when a loud gong was sounded. "Shite", Harry wore, as he quickly finished his shower.

Grabbing his school robes, he quickly donned them on and hurried towards the dining room. He knew that Igor would not like him being late, but he certainly won't do anything about it. Igor Karkaroff was definitely one of the worst Highmasters that Durmstrang has ever seen, especially since he was always half-afraid of doing anything that might damage his relationship with the prominent families, so he never really punishes any students. It was always up to the Professors to do something, a fact that was not missed by the students.

Pushing the double oak doors, he could see that dinner had already started, and everyone was looking at him expectedly. Harry grinned roguishly, before starting, "Sorry about that, I got lost in my thoughts while taking a shower."

Yosef grinned maniacally, "Thoughts? Maybe it was your hand that you were oh so lost in?"

The rest of the students either giggled or laughed at that statement, with Viktor glaring at the Russian. Harry winked at the ladies who seemed to giggle more, before walking towards the only empty seat, which was right across from Viktor, and on the left hand-side of Professor Gregorovitch.

Pyotr stood up at that point, "Silence, Mister Dragunov. And Mister Potter, I believe a detention is in order for tonight."

Harry nodded at the punishment, before grabbing his own bowl of soup, and starting his meal. He knew it will be a long night with Professor Gregorovitch, since he was promised training sessions even on Hogwarts Grounds.

* * *

Pyotr looked at the raven haired boy calculatedly, before sending three spells in succession. He knew that Harry's shield charms were great, and his dodging abilities were on par with his, but it was his Apparating ability that was being tested.

Harry saw the three curses coming at him, and immediately spun out of the way. He visualized himself right behind the Professor, before vanishing with a pop. Just as he materialized, he could see two more spells coming at him.

Another pop was heard, and Harry once again disappeared, only to reappear diagonally from his Professor, who once more sent three curses in that direction. This exercise continued for almost half an hour, before Pyotr finally signalled for Harry to stop.

"That was good, you almost have it by muscle memory." Pyotr commenting, sitting himself behind his desk, while drinking a drink that seemed to be coffee.

Harry smirked lazily, "I have been practicing, as you know."

"Good, good. Although, I'm curious as to how you have been doing with Earth Magick?"

The Dragon of Durstrang smirked, before chanting a short line of Latin. The effect was instantaneous, and within seconds, Pyotr was wrapped with vines on his chair. The vines themselves seemed to have sprung from the wooden chair itself, which made the aging Professor smile.

"Strong vines, but that was a simple spell. Have you delved into the more advanced ones?"

Harry scratched his head, "I tried, but I seem to not be able to grasp the theories. It's the stubborn properties of earth that makes it harder for me to channel and mold it into my will."

Pyotr nodded, agreeing with his student's observation. Earth Magicks was the element of strength, which means it is a very stubborn element. Harry was more suited for the fire element, whose characteristics were wild and free. Fire was something that did not want to be controlled, but channelled and guided. Earth was different, it needed to be tamed, not just facilitated.

"It would be stupid of me to let you show me how well you are doing with you fire magick, so we'll deal with that later. For now, try summoning vines on the floorboards of this room. The more you can summon, the better."

Harry nodded, before taking a spot in the middle of the room. He sat down slowly and closed his eyes, concentrating on his magic. Fire magick came easily to him, like fish to water, but Earth magick, he needed a lot more concentration. Pulling on his core, he immediastely pushed out the spell, sending cracks on the floorboards. Vines started coming out, the largest ones were nearest to him. As seconds went by, more and more vines whipped around, seeking something to hold down. Harry, himself, looked serene sitting in the middle of all these vines, with his eyes closed and in a meditative stance.

Pyotr observed the power that his student possessed. This was power, true magical power. If he was not proficient yet with Earth Magicks and this was the result of his mediocre attempt, then he shuddered to think what the result will be when he is proficient enough. In fact, he almost dreaded having Harry show him how far he had gone with his Fire Magick.

Spells were used by normal average wizards, while good wizards are able to use wandless magic. Great wizards needed neither spells nor wands, simply their body as a foci for the magic to flow. Their intent held the key to anything they desire, and that was what a Battle Mage was. Even the greatest Dark Lords like Lord Voldemort, and Light Magicians like Albus Dumbledore, still needed their wands to do anything of power. Battle Magic was a closely guarded secret that was passed on by Master to Apprentice, and Harry Potter will definitely exceed any Battle Mage that had come to existence, Pyotr Gregorovitch was sure of it.

Harry slowly opened his eyes, and was shocked by the carnage he had created. From the door, to the back of the room, vines lashed left and right while his Professor stood with his arms and legs tied together.

"Good work, Harry. Now, I think you should dispel these now."

Harry nodded, before letting the pull on his magic go, making the vines slowly recede and disappear through the cracks. The Boy-Who-Lived let go a huge breath of sigh, before feeling himself slightly tired from the ordeal.

Pyotr shook himself, flicking away stray wooden chips on his robes, "You seem to have a better grasp at it than you had first thought."

"It seems so. I guess I need to learn to better control it still." Harry replied, before taking the seat that was available in front of the Professor's desk.

"True, but then again, mastering an element takes years of training and practice. Don't push yourself too much, Harry. Especially since we may need you at your best for this tournament."

Harry looked towards his Professor, "Do you sense something?"

Pyotr nodded slowly, "There seems to be something wrong about all of this. First the Dark Creatures around Europe seemed to have been shifting ever so subtly. Then, we have had a rise in vampire and werewolf bites in a decade. Lastly, Ministry Officials are turning up dead or missing around European countries." The Professor shook head, "Something feels wrong about this, and we best prepare for the worst."

"Then I shall be prepared for the worst." Harry nodded. He knew that he should never take Pyotr's warnings lightly. Professor Gregorovitch was one of the most respected Battle Mages in this century, and when he said there is something wrong, it usually means there is something wrong.

The Professor smiled at his colleague, before ushering him out, "Well, best be off Harry. We will be arriving at Hogwarts tomorrow evening, and you best be prepared to give a show."

Harry nodded, before walking out of the office towards his room. They had been briefed about giving a taste of what Durmstrang was like during their arrival at Hogwarts, and he knew he needed his magical core restored to the fullest for the show he was planning to give.

* * *

Fleur sat on her bed, whistling away as she read the Charms text she had for this term.

The carriage ride had been quite boring, and the group of students that had been chosen by Beauxbatons to compete were either preparing themselves for their arrival at Hogwarts, or gossiping away. Fleur was finished preparing, and she had no love for gossip.

Stretching a bit, she was disturbed by a knock on the door, before two girls walked in without hesitation.

"Fleur! Madame Maxime has just told us we will be arriving in ten minutes!" Amelie smiled, as she took the chair that was right in front of her desk.

"Who do you think will be chosen?" Zoe asked, taking a spot on Fleur's bed, successfully separating Fleur from her Charms book.

Fleur smiled at them both, before walking towards the mirror she had right behind the door. She took herself in, before nodding at herself. She had ample make-up on, and her hair was perfectly hanging behind her, all in all, she looked perfect.

"Shouldn't we be going to the main doors then?" Fleur asked, while her two friends seemed to be looking at her quite pensively, "What? Is there something wrong?"

Amelie glanced at Zoe, before starting, "We just over-heard Pierre talking about getting back together with you this year, is it true?"

Fleur blanched at the thought, before replying, "No, that pig is lying."

Zoe smiled at that, "Good! He should know by now that just because every other girl bends over for him, Fleur Delacour would do so as well!"

Fleur smiled at that, before shivering at the thought. Pierre was one of Beauxbaton's top student, and was also one of their better Chasers. But what made him popular with everybody was that he was a Bonaparte, which meant that he was almost Royalty in France. Of course, Fleur had dated him during their Fifth Year, which ended in a disaster when she found out he had been cheating on her with two other sixth years. Let's just say that his little tool took more than a few burning salves to heal. Veela fire was stronger than any other fire in existence, aside from Fiendfyre, and Fleur was not scared to use it on the man-whore.

Amelie took Fleur's left arm, while Zoe took her right, before they started marching towards the main door. Just as they rounded the corner, they saw that everyone had already lined up, and the first few students had already marched out into the grassy field. Arriving just in the nick of time, Madame Maxime shook her head at the three, before pushing them out into the field.

Fleur's first impression of Scotland was cold, very cold. Their Beauxbaton uniforms were too thin to withstand this kind of temperature, so she immediately grabbed her wand and cast a heating charm on her and her friends. Amelie and Zoe smiled at her, before they joined their classmates walking towards the Castle.

Hogwarts Castle stood tall and proud, and immediately took Fleur's breath away. Unlike the majestic palace of Beauxbatons, Hogwarts was imposing, yet inviting. The tall towers made it quite intimidating, and yet, the innate magic around the place was calm and serene.

"So, will this Harry Potter show his face soon? We have been listening to you talking about him for months now!" Amelie asked quite impishly, trying to distract Fleur from noticing that most of the boys from Hogwarts were ogling her.

Fleur smiled at that, "My father and I had to go to Switzerland to meet him, so I would think he would be studying in Durmstrang. Which means that there is a possibility that he might not be part of their delegates."

Zoe scoffed at that, "The Boy-Who-Lived not part of Durmstrang's delegates? That's quite absurd. He'll be here, I'm sure of it."

The quarter Veela smiled at that thought, before stopping at the gates of Hogwarts. She observed the large double doors, before realizing she had been holding up the procession back to the castle. Just then, a strong breeze seemed to have picked up, and her Beauxbaton's cap flew from her head. Her hair flipped around, which made most of the guy behind her smile dumbly.

Fleur looked around, trying to find where her cap went, when a strong hand seemed to tap on her shoulder. Look at the person, she almost died of shock when the object of their discussion seemed to have materialized out of nowhere.

"Hey there Fleur, you seem to be missing this." Harry smiled at the girl, before handing her the blue cap that all Beauxbaton witches wore.

Fleur smiled graciously, "Thank you, Harry. And it's good to see you again."

"You too, Fleur! I've got to go now, though. Best not keep the Highmaster waiting!" Harry replied, before jogging towards the group of Durmstrang students that seemed to have overtook her and her friends.

Amelie quickly tugged at Fleur's side, "Was that _The_ Harry Potter?"

Fleur smiled softly, before nodding, "Yes, that was Monsieur Harry Potter."

"He's dreamy, can I have him?" Zoe cutely asked, while they slowly trudged up towards the castle once more.

Fleur stuck her tongue out at her friend, before being beaten by Amelie who replied for her, "You can't Zoe, he is Fleur's Prince Charming!"

Her two friends giggled at that, which just made Fleur sigh. It was going to be a long year, especially with her friends constantly teasing her about Harry.


	7. The Dragon Rises

**The Dragon of Durmstrang**

A/N: Taking another shot at writing, and dusting up my skillset. Enjoy my own AU world of Harry Potter as a Durmstrang student, of which I'm sure will be quite interesting indeed. He is, once again, older in this story (17 years old), and will be a seventh year student. Oh, and I also love reading reviews, so feel free to give me your feedback!

 **Chapter Seven: The Dragon Rises**

Hogwarts was definitely a place of magical concentration. It wasn't just because the great Albus Dumbledore is housed in its walls, nor was it the hundreds of teenage magical cores that converged on the building every year.

It was the magical signature of the four founders that still imbued the very walls of the school. Their very essence built the school; the pure, unaldultered magical power that erected the very foundations of the castle called out to all who could hear its whispers.

"Magnificent." Harry commented as he walked into the double doors of the school.

To think, he could have been here for seven years. And yet, he knew that if he had been here instead of Durmstrang, he would have never been able to fully appreciate the wonders that Hogwarts Castle actually was. The magical aura that it pulsed could only be felt by the most attuned mages, most especially ones who were deeply connected to the natural magicks.

A hand clasped on Harry's shoulder, and a gruff voice started, "You feel it as well, don't you?"

"I do, Professor. It's very soothing, as if the Castle itself is caressing my very soul."

Pyotr inhaled deeply, "It's a song, a hymn that welcomes every being that finds solace in it's halls."

Harry looked towards his Professor, "Is the Castle itself alive then?"

"Not exactly. The Castle was built by the very essence of the four founder's magical prowess; a testament to their power and control of the elemental magicks."

"The four founders were Battle Mages then?"

"They were more than Battle Mages, Harry. Far, far more powerful than what we have now. Battle magicks became the bastard of what they have had back then."

That point solidified the awe that Harry had. It was well known the a Battle Mage could take on a horde of normal witches and wizards in a battle. If the four founders were far more powerful than they were, it would have been a truly inspiring sight to have seen them perform their magic.

Viktor caught up with Harry at that point, and tapped him on the shoulder, "The Highmaster wants us to form up on the side room. Something about our entrance."

"He means, my performance."

Viktor chuckled, "He wants to rub it into Dumbledore's face that he has the Boy-Who-Lived."

Harry blanched at that, "His ultimate trophy: Harry Potter and Viktor Krum."

They both turned towards the room, with Pyotr Gregorovitch following behind them. Half listening in to the conversation, his mind drifted towards the fact that his pupil would have to perform tonight, a show for these foreigners to watch. He did not agree to this decision especially since Battle Magicks was not something to _perform_ with. The other Professors disagreed, however, and wanted to showcase the talent Durmstrang has, especially since the school had always been seen as a backwater for grunts and the underdogs of Eastern Europe. He agreed with regaining the honour that Durmstrang desperately needed, just not the way they wanted to go about it.

* * *

Fleur sat down gingerly, as she tried not to be bothered with the Hogwarts students that seemed to not have ever seen a Veela in their life before. Even with the seventeen years of experience being a Veela, it still bothered her somewhat when people stared at her like she was a piece of meat. It made her feel degraded.

The Ravenclaw House, at least the ones in the immediate vicinity of hers, were much better though. They at least seemed a bit more under control, or maybe it was because of the beautiful Asian beauty that sat within their vicinity as well. Fleur found that guys tend to be a bit more controlled when they have been exposed to _beautiful_ women. At least, socially accepted beauty.

"Hi, I'm Cho Chang. How are you finding Hogwarts?"

Fleur looked towards the girl that trailed her thoughts, and smiled, "It's a beautiful Castle, definitely English-esque."

Zoe poked her, "Fleur finds it dreary, really. She's more used to the artistic-style of the French architects."

Amelie giggled at that, while Fleur tried her best not to look embarrassed by her friend's comment. Cho seemed to not mind, and even smiled, "I can definitely see why, though! I've been to France myself, and their definitely is a class to French architecture. Hogwarts might seem dreary, but it grows on you."

Fleur smiled. It was rare that a girl approached her with sincerity, and more so when it seemed liked she had insulted a place that was technically their home for most of the year.

"I'm sure I'll get used to it. Where did you visit in France? I hope you at least took a peak at our Southern beaches?"

Cho smirked at that, "I think I could say a took more than a peek at it."

The French delegates all chuckled at that comment, Fleur even more so. It was a known fact that southern France held a number of nude beaches, and this Cho Chang seemed to have been at the frontlines.

Before their conversation could take off once more, Albus Dumbledore stood up once again, "Please welcome, our brothers from the North, the proud sons of Durmstrang! Led by their Highmaster, Igor Karkaroff."

* * *

The Durmstrang delegates stepped into the hauntingly illuminated Hall full of students. They were formed up into two rows, with Karkaroff, Gregorovitch, Viktor, and Harry at the carrying the rear of the party.

The march was echoed with the beat of the staves that the Durmstrang students carried only during ceremonies. The thumps were intimidating in nature, especially since it was the war rhythm that Durmstrang used during the feudal days of Eastern Europe. It carried the pride, and strength of Durmstrang Institute; a testament to its founder, the Highmistress Nerida Vulchanova.

The candles dimmed even more, as the staves that the Durmstrang students carried seemed to absorb its light, and the small embers that hovered at the tip of each staff grew stronger and stronger each beat. The staves were crafted, not as weapons, but an item of intimidation. They drain every light source in the battlefield, a scare tactic during the Medieval era.

As they ascended the platform of the Great Hall, Harry placed himself in front of the delegates, the center of attention. The Durmstrang delegates took that as their cue, and blew on their staves, creating two phoenixes made of the flames that the staves accumulated. The phoenixes flew in a circle and shrieked.

Harry watched the fire-birds with concentration, before whispering to himself, "Showtime."

The Phoenixes started to ascend, before dropping quickly. The Hogwarts, and even the Beauxbatons students gasped as the phoenixes targeted Harry, who just stood there without fear, nor hesitation.

Harry looked up, before sucking in the two phoenixes into his mouth. He felt the heat build up, and started moulding it. If that was to be perfect, he'd have to be precise and not hesitate at all.

Feeling confident after a few seconds, Harry finally released the fire from his mouth, breathing it out like a dragon. The flames started forming something slowly, until it became an eagle with two heads. The eagle soared over the heads of the students, before stopping at the entrance doors of the Hall.

All the heads turned towards the double doors, with the double-headed eagle floating menacingly at atop. Harry pushed his hands outward, and the eagle responded by shrieking once more and expanding its wings.

The double-headed eagle froze mid-air, the sparks it emitted when it expanded his wings started to form around it. The end result was the crest of Durmstrang, proudly hovering over the Great Hall of Hogwarts.

Harry felt that the show was over, so he snapped his fingers, which caused the crest to explode in a shower of embers, which deftly lit up the floating candles of the Great Hall once more.

There were no applauses, not that Harry minded. Every face was now either glancing up at him every so often, or outright staring at him. Harry shrugged it off, however, and followed his fellow students to the table they were assigned to, Slytherin.

Thankfully, as dinner started, the students seemed to have finally noticed that the great Quidditch star Viktor Krum was here, and the attention slowly turned towards the Bulgarian. Harry, himself, slinked towards the background, making himself as small as possible. He never really liked the attention, and more so now that the so-called Light wizard Albus Dumbledore was here.

Sirius never talked highly about Dumbledore, especially since he almost was put into Azkaban because of his statement that Sirius was the Secret Keeper for the Potter family. Aside from that, Harry's training into the Battle Magicks was still considered a type of Dark Magic in Britain, and Albus Dumbledore is a staunch aggressor of Battle Magicks; especially since the last Dark Lord of Britain, Lord Voldemort, was a rumoured practitioner of the art.

Harry quietly ate his dinner, making sure no Slytherin even try to talk to him. As he glanced up, however, he was treated with the vision of Fleur Delacour, who seemed to be enjoying her conversation with a group of both Beauxbatons and Hogwarts students.

He smiled slightly at that, before catching himself and lowering his gaze once more. His thoughts quickly drifted to Ksenia, and he felt an ache that stemmed from his chest area once more. The pain was still there; the loss was always hovering over him. He knew he had to slowly let it go, Ksenia would not have wanted him to be stagnated because of her. But he knew that he would never fully let it go, until he killed the murderer.

Viktor shrugged off the Malfoy heir, who seemed to keep trying to talk to him for some reason. His brief respite led him to glance towards his friend, who seemed more reserved than usual. He watched as Harry glanced towards Fleur, before glowering darkly once more.

Looking around, shrugging off the Malfoy heir once more, Viktor decided to get up and slide over towards Harry.

"Hey, you alright?"

Harry glanced towards Viktor, "You do know that the second you came over here, all the attention went with you, right?

"Of course, you can't leave a friend hanging, right?"

Harry chuckled, "So, what brings you here? It seems you left your platinum-blonde friend behind over there."

Viktor cringed, "I saved myself."

"Well, he doesn't seem too happy."

"I really don't care."

"So, how're these Slytherin folks? Sirius always painted them with a bad light."

"Don't dodge the reason why I'm here. You have to let her go, Harry. You're only doing yourself a disservice, and she wouldn't have wanted you to mourn this long for her. She'd have wanted you to move on."

Harry shook his head, "You don't know how it feels to lose someone you love."

"I don't?"

Harry cringed, "Sorry."

"It took me awhile to get over my mother's death, and it certainly took me a few months to get used to my step-mother. What I didn't do was let it affect my school, or my career. I know you've been sub-par with your training with Professor Gregorovitch, and you've been slacking on some schoolwork."

"And how are you privy to this?"

"Because I sit beside you during class, and you zone off most of the time. And Professor Gregorovitch has confided that you have been sub-par with your training."

Harry shrugged, "And you thought you could help?"

"I thought I could tell you, and you help yourself." Viktor shrugged in return.

Harry nodded, before scratching his chin. He glanced towards Fleur one more time, before standing up, "I think I should go back to the ship, meditating usually works when I get this problem."

Viktor patted him on the back, "Go, I'll make up an excuse if our _esteemed_ Highmaster starts asking questions again."

* * *

Hermione was studying almost each of the school's delegates. She always held curiosity for the different magical schools around the world, but they always kept the location, and curriculum a secret. Secrets were what kept the different schools mysterious, and Hermione hated mysteries.

She glanced towards the French, and singled out Fleur. The Veela student was likely the chosen for her school, simply because of her special blood giving her an advantage over any other witch and wizard.

A Veela's fire magic made them more elementals than anything, and the ability to control fire with their bare hands made any Veela dangerous.

As she studied the rest of the French delegates, her vision was suddenly blocked by someone she did not want to talk to right now.

"Hey, 'Mione."

Hermione looked up towards the speaker, and glared, "Go away."

"I'm sorry about last yea-"

"No, Ron. You don't get to cheat on me, say sorry, and be forgiven."

Ron scratched his head, "But-"

"No buts. Go away."

"You don't understand! I didn't mean to cheat on you! I was drunk after that Quidditch team party, and I didn't know what I was doing!"

Hermione got up, placed one of her fist on her hip, and the other pointing directly at Ron, "Get away from me, Ronald Weasley. Why don't you suck on Lavender's tits, and leave me the fuck alone?!"

Ron went red, and started to reach for Hermione's hand, but was suddenly stopped by another, who squeezed his hand so hard he yelp.

"I think when the lady said go away, she meant for you to go away."

Hermione looked towards her saviour, and was about to tell him off as well that she can protect herself. She caught herself stunned for a second by twin emerald orbs that sent chills down her spine. Hermione shook herself, and took a better look at the male. He had a well-built body, toned, but not too muscular. His Durmstrang robes hid most of it, but his physique was definitely show through his shoulder-width, and his well-toned arms. Not too tall, but not short as well, this could only resemble one person she'd seen recently.

Harry smiled at the bushy-haired girl, before shoving the ginger-haired student away, "Don't you ever lay a hand on a girl. I _will_ hurt you if you do."

There was just something about abuse that struck Harry more than others.

Ron glared at the raven-haired student from Durmstrang, and was about to comment something profane, but was immediately held back by his own buddies. He snarled instead, and walked away with an Irishman in tow.

"I didn't need saving there."

Harry turned towards the girl, "I know, I just couldn't help it, and nobody around you seemed inclined to help you out even if you don't need it."

Hermione glanced around and realized that almost everybody in the Great Hall was staring in their direction. Blushing, she shook her head, "Well, thank you…"

"Potter. Harry James Potter at your service," At this, Harry took her hand, and kissed the knuckle.

"Always a gentleman, Harry?"

"Always."

At this, Harry nodded at her, before walking towards the ship. He really needed to meditate, especially since he almost lost his temper right there with the ginger. Losing his temper was never good for anyone's health, since the last time it happened, the right wing of Durmstrang had to be closed for a week.

Let's just say every present and future Durmstrang student will have Harry to thank for the newly renovated right wing.

* * *

Fleur was watching the interaction, and felt a heaviness on her chest.

"Oh, your boyfriend seems to be a knight in shining armour, Fleur!"

Fleur looked towards Amelie, "That pig was about to grab the poor girl, any gentleman would have quickly helped her out."

"But it was dear Harry that did. The rest just sat back and watched." Amelie replied cockily.

Cho watched the interaction between the two, "So, Fleur is Harry's girlfriend?"

Zoe piped in, " _Soon_ to be boyfriend."

Fleur sighed. She knew it wasn't time for Harry to have someone else to replace his lost loved one. The girl had just died, and it would be stomping on her memory if she had tried to snag Harry right now. As if she could snag him anyways. His immunity to her aura made it impossible to charm him.

His immunity, however, made him a desirable male.

"I need to concentrate on getting into the tournament, and win, not the frivolous chase of men." Fleur replied, daring her friends to argue.

Zoe, and Amelie got the message, and backed off. Fleur was a great friend, nice and even quite generous, but when she got angry…she got angry.

"So, Cho, who should I be looking out for as a competitor here at Hogwarts?" Fleur decided to change subjects.

Cho concentrated for a second, "Well, there's Draco in Slytherin. He's been telling everybody in Slytherin he's a shoe in."

Fleur glanced at the Slytherin table, and found herself looking at the platinum-blonde haired boy. He seemed malnourished a bit, his face more gaunt looking than anybody she's ever seen.

"Anybody else?"

Cho pointed towards the ginger that just got scared away by Harry, "Ronald Weasley has been lugging around, telling everybody he's going to be chosen by the goblet."

Fleur chuckled, "Next!"

Everybody else within earshot chuckled at her reaction. Most everybody had already been fed up with Ronald Weasley, especially after he was caught cheating with Lavender Brown. People might not be the best of friends with Hermione, since she was certainly annoying in class, but a cheater never prospers within the halls of Hogwarts.

"There's Cedric Diggory. He's the one most of us are betting on."

Fleur looked towards the yellow-tied students, and singled out Diggory. Good-looking, and talented, a note-worthy competitor.

"And not to mention he's Cho's boyfriend." A fellow Ravenclaw chimed in, to which Cho grew red on.

Fleur shoved the girl, "So, you've got yourself an eye candy, hey?"

Cho stuck her tongue out, "Maybe I should trade him for Harry? I'm sure you wouldn't mind, hey Fleur?"

Fleur mock-glared at her, "You sure you want Cedric to hear you say that?"

"Let's see." Cho replied, before walking over to Cedric. She whispered something into his ear, before pecking his cheek. Cedric seemed to smirk, before not-so-subtly grabbing her bum, and kissing her on the lips quite hungrily. Everyone around them wolf-whistled, while Cho seemed to be enjoying herself.

"She's never coming back, you know that, right?"

Fleur looked towards Amelie, before shrugging.

Zoe smirked, "I bet you're imagining Harry doing that to you."

Fleur harrumphed, before going back to her meal. Her thoughts immediately went to the raven-haired boy that's been plaguing her dreams. She shook herself however, and reminded herself that the guy had recently lost his girlfriend. She needed to be patient, and understanding. It would be tarnishing the memory of his girlfriend, Ksenia, if she remembered correctly.

No, she had to respect Ksenia, and Harry. Plus, she wanted to win this tournament, not find a boyfriend.

"I have to win." Fleur whispered to herself.


	8. A Charming Afternoon

**The Dragon of Durmstrang**

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy!

 **Chapter Eight: A Charming Afternoon**

There are numerous rumours that most people believe about Veelas. One such rumour is that their beauty and grace could charm any man or woman; a rumour that has stigmatized the Veela community for the past hundred years.

Another such rumour was that Veelas were less than those who are human, therefore leading governments of old to pass laws that classified Veelas as sub-human. Of course, as time passed and seasons changed, those old and archaic laws have been struck down. Modernity soon came forth, and Veelas were finally given the rights and privileges that they are owed.

Not in Britain, however.

The purebloods, old families that continue to hold onto their hierarchical power, continues to steer that British Ministry of Magic. Laws that should have been struck down, remain. Power structure still favours the titled and monied, and blood still mattered.

Fleur knew all of this, which is why she can be found away from most of the Hogwarts population, preferring to spend her time around the Beauxbatons' carriage.

Finding a spot just under a tree, near enough to the carriage, she sat herself with a contented sigh.

"Madame Maxime would drive us insane with these intensive classes," Fleur sighed to herself.

Even though they weren't at Beauxbatons, their Headmistress still stressed the importance of their education, thereby making sure that they followed the curriculum that they would have had if they had stayed at their school. The difference was: Madame Maxime was teaching half of the classes.

Fleur closed her eyes, feeling the gentle caress of the afternoon breeze, listening to the little songbirds that tweeted their songs, and finally noticing the soft thumping steps that were heading towards her position.

"Fleur, you ran away from us after class!" Amelie greeted, as she plopped herself diagonally towards Fleur.

Zoe did the same, across from Amelie.

Fleur opened her eyes, and smiled at the two.

Amelie had a red spot on her forehead, a testament to her falling asleep during their History of Magic class. Her eyes were teary from a yawn, and her uniform ruffled because of being hunched while asleep.

"Did you even learn anything today, Amy?" Fleur asked with mirth in her eyes.

After a few seconds, she replied, "Another goblin rebellion?"

Fleur and Zoe immediately burst into fits of giggles, soon after joined by Amelie's own snorts.

"Fine, fine, I didn't even last five minutes into the class before I dozed," she finally admitted, raising her hands in defeat.

Zoe grabbed a roll of parchment she had with her, and passed it to Amelie, "Here, copy them tonight and give them back tomorrow."

"You're a lifesaver, Zoe!"

As her two friends chatted, Fleur closed her eyes once more. She was out of practice, especially since her free times were now devoted to keeping up with class readings. Nevertheless, she knew she had to start practicing, at least, if she wanted to be chosen as a champion for Beauxbatons.

With a flourish of her wand, she whispered, "Herbivicus."

The plants around the three girls started to grow rapidly, a circular area that spanned four meters in diameter around Fleur. The rapid growth stopped when the grass were about three feet tall, with some of the plants blooming flowers.

Fleur opened her eyes and smiled to herself, she had definitely not lost touch with her charms.

 _ACHOOO!_

"Bless you, Zoe!"

"Thanks, Amy!"

"So, why did you have to make the grass this tall, Fleur? I mean, if you did not want to look at our faces, you just had to tell us, you know," Amelie remarked, trying to look through the grass that had obscured her view of her two friends.

"And, I have allergies!"

Fleur tapped her wand on the ground and whispered, "Finite."

The grass receded slowly, until they were back to their trimmed height.

Zoe looked around, her nose now stuffed and puffy-red.

"I'm sorry, Zoe, I didn't know your allergies were because of the grass," Fleur apologized, reaching for her friend's hand.

The sneezing girl patted Fleur, "It's alright, at least we now know this thing is caused by the gra—AACHOO!"

"Let's take you to the Madame LePlat, she'll get you some potions to help you!"

At this, all three girls stood up, gathering themselves before they slowly trudged their way back into their carriage. Their school nurse had been sent with them, and her expertise in potions never let the students down.

"You know, she'll have your head for causing this, Fleur," Amelie grinned.

Fleur groaned, "It's not my fault that both of you are accident prone!"

Zoe giggled, "And it's not our fault that you always had to take us to the infirmary when our spells backfire!"

Sticking her tongue out at them, the three girls shared a laugh before facing their less than happy school nurse.

* * *

"A budding Charm's Mistress, hey?" Pyotr commented, as he and Harry looked towards where Fleur and her friends had just been.

Leaning on their ship's hull, Harry grunted, "You know, we might as well be labelled as perverts for watching those three girls."

Pyotr chuckled, "Harry, it was their fault that they were loud, and their voices distracted your training."

Harry shrugged, preferring to look back towards the afternoon sun, slowly setting between the mountains that surrounded Hogwarts. The sigh itself was breathtaking, a refreshing scenery that the Durmstrang students have never experienced in their own school grounds.

"Unlike finesse and precision, your discipline relies on strength and control."

"I know I don't lack strength in my magic, so—"

"Control, you are lacking control," Pyotr replied, "more so than before."

Harry remained silent, opting to closing his eyes and relaxing himself. Control was never a big issue with him, his spells were strong, and were not overdone with power. Yet, he knew that professor had something different in mind.

"My emotions aren't under check, you mean?"

A near-silent _hm_ was his answer.

A few minutes passed, before Pyotr started, "Your flames during the ceremony were strong, yet it was too hot. It was burning with emotions, something that I had taught you never to do."

Harry glanced towards him, "Aren't emotions the fuel for stronger spells?"

"Yes, you are correct. Emotions do fuel spells. For example, your emotions fueled your flames to burn stronger. Happiness makes for a better cheering charm. Hate and loathing leads to the ability to use the killing curse," Pyotr explained, "emotions do fuel spells, and yet unchecked emotions can lead to overpowered or underpowered spells, which is life or death in the battlefield."

"Battlefield?" Harry quirked, "who said anything about going into battle?"

"A duel is a battle, being on the field as an auror is a battle. Didn't you once say you wanted to pursue a career in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?"

"Still, it isn't always a life or death situation."

Pyotr's face turned dark at that moment, before slowly recovering himself, "Tell that to my sister."

A minute passed before Harry broke the silence, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be, she was young and just didn't fully understand her magic."

Harry nodded before sighing, "I just don't know what to do."

"I won't tell you to let go like your friend, Mister Krum, has been telling you," Pyotr replied, slowly stretching himself from his slouch, "but I will tell you to make sure it doesn't affect you."

Slowly walking towards the door that led back into the ship, Pyotr glanced back at Harry, "You will need your very best if you wish to win this tournament, after all."

Pyotr Gregorovitch disappeared into the ship, leaving Harry behind to mull over what his mentor had just told him.

He was almost sure that he would be picked as the champion for Durmstrang. The only one who could potentially take the spot would be Viktor, but with his Battle Mage training, Harry outpaced Viktor by a mile.

But the dangers of the tournament still weighed in his mind. Untold glory, money, and a trophy, that was what he was going to compete for. Of course, honour for the school that champion represented, but that didn't matter for Harry. For him, this was his ultimate test. His training has led up to this point, and he wanted to prove that he is indeed worthy of being called a Battle Mage.

His musings were interrupted by a voice that shouted, "Harry! Harry!"

He glanced towards the shore of the lake, and saw Hermione waving at him, a huge tome clutched in her other arm.

Smiling, he waved back before jumping towards her from the ship's railing.

He heard a loud gasp coming from Hermione, before smiling and pulling out his wand. He quickly started chanting in latin. This resulted to the wind around Harry picking up, and slowly carrying him towards the shore.

Landing softly in front of the bushy-haired girl, he made sure to get a good footing before tripping and falling onto the grassy patch of land.

"Fuck!"

"Language, Harry!" Hermione snapped, before giggling madly, "no matter how eloquent you try to think you are, mister Potter, you still are a big dummy."

"Hey! I take offence!" Harry chuckled, before slowly getting up from his position, "that fall did hurt my bum though."

"Hmph! Serves you right trying to look way cooler than you are!"

"Fine, fine. So, finally got a hold of the book?"

Hermione beamed, before starting the trek towards the spot where they usually hung out to talk. Harry soon followed her steps, which led them to the dock that had been made for the Durmstrang ship. It served as their bay, and dock. The ship itself was anchored down, and a wide wooden plank connected the dock to one of the openings in the ship's side, which acted as a doorway of sorts for the Durmstrang students.

Sitting down on the left side of the wooden surface, both students let their feet dangle on the edge. It was a nice spot, breezy most days, and also not as busy due to the fact that the Durmstrang students have decided not to leave the ship often. This was due to the fact that more than a handful of Hogwarts students, mostly Gryffindors, seemed to have issues with them, which led to some fighting. Highmaster Igor Karkaroff decided it was best for Durmstrang to stay in the ship, a decision that the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, seemed to not be happy with.

The best part about this spot was the giant squid, who seemed to like visiting them, often brushed their legs with its many tentacles. Most might find it gross, but Harry and Hermione both found it quite ticklish.

"Hogwarts: A History," Harry read the cover, while waiting for Hermione to start their research.

The seventh year Hogwarts student brushed her hand at the cover, before opening the book, "I had to get it owled from home, and Minerva seemed pretty tired after lugging this giant thing through the country."

"Your poor owl, make sure she gets treats from me!"

"Will do! Now, let's see where I found a reference to battle magicks. I do know that one of the founders has been proficient with it—aha!" Hermione pointed towards a picture of a red-headed man, whose beard is as long and as crimson as his hair.

Harry studied the page, "Godric Gryffindor."

Hermione flipped the page of the book and began reading, stopping only once she found the passage, "Here it is! It says here that Godric had been a proficient swordsman, and his prowess extended to his ability to use battle magicks. Unlike the other founders, Godric had always been an aggressive man, whose magical prowess was only exceeded by his love for drinking."

"A drunkard founder."

"Hush you, he's still one of the strongest wizards to have lived."

"Still, a drunkard founder."

Hermione huffed, before closing the large book. She had a very serious face on, before starting, "If Godric Gryffindor was a Battle Mage, and if the Sorting Hat was really made by him, then the best way to find out more about battle magicks would be talking to the Hat!"

"And where is this Hat?" Harry inquired, already knowing that it would probably be inaccessible to him.

"It's in Dumbledore's office. I last saw it there in a stand, I wasn't there because I was in trouble mind you. I had just been given the position of Head Girl last month and had a meeting—"

Harry cut in immediately, "Hermione, you're rambling again."

Hermione blushed brightly, "Sorry."

Smiling, Harry shoved her shoulder lightly with his, "You don't have to be, it's your little quirk, I suppose!"

Hermione smiled at him, before a comfortable silence blanketed them both.

For Harry, the silence was comfortable in a way that his friends never gave him. Viktor, although mostly a silent guy, tended to open up and talk more with Harry. His other friends back in Durmstrang were just loud in general. Sitting by the docks, with the still water under their feet, and the refreshing light breeze softly blowing, it calmed Harry down in a way that his meditation techniques cannot achieve.

Hermione, however, enjoyed Harry's company as a friend who she never had. Growing up at Hogwarts, a muggle-born witch like her was always cautious when interacting with the other children, especially the purebloods. She had read the history of the Wizarding World, and knew that her status as a muggle-born did not help her case, especially since she was also an over-achiever when it comes to her studies. This caused her alienation to most of everyone, with only Ronald Weasley being her only friend from first year onwards.

She had tolerated the boy, and finally gave in to his advances. They dated for a year, and now she couldn't even look him in the eye and not want to punch in that smug face.

Having Harry around made her feel safe somehow.

"It's getting late, hey?"

Hermione looked towards the setting sun, and nodded. Her rounds started soon, and she was never late.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow during breakfast?"

Harry smiled, "Bright and early!"

* * *

Severus Snape was a man who knew to pick and choose his battles. He had ended up on the other side of the law because of this, while his old peers were mostly locked up in Azkaban, or worse, dead.

A sharp pain, and a hiss, Severus knew he could not just ignore the signs any longer. Shoving aside the rolls and rolls of essays he had to grade, the resident potions master quickly stood up and made his way to the Headmaster's office.

"Move!" Severus snapped, watching the hurdle of first years running away from his path.

Several flights of staircases later, he finally ended up in front of the office.

"Kit-Kat."

The staircase started moving, and the man quickly rushed up towards the door. Opening it without care.

"Ah, Severus, what brings you at this hour?" Albus Dumbledore greeted, watching the man closely. For the years that he has worked for him, Severus was not one for social calls.

Lifting up his sleeves, Severus presented to the headmaster his arm. On it was a skull tattoo with a snake slithering out of its mouth.

"It's becoming more distinct every single day."

Albus, for his part, stared at first, before sighing, "Has it been painful as well?"

"Almost as if he's sending out a call."

The aged headmaster sighed, closing his eyes for a moment, "Have you approached Igor about this?"

"As if that oaf would even acknowledge that his mark is burning! If he wasn't tied down here right now, he would probably have already ran for the hills! The coward that he is—"

"Severus."

Both men stood quiet for the moment, before Severus asked, "What should we do?"

"For now we must wait."

"Wait? Albus, we have to start doing something! This isn't just something that should be brushed aside. The mark does not go active without a cause! You know as well as I do that he never died."

Albus, for his part, watched that man behind his spectacles, his mind going a thousand miles per second. The former Death Eater was right to be panicked, since the Dark Mark's power relied on Voldemort's life force. During his supposed demise, the Mark almost disappeared on every Death Eater's forearm. The pains that Severus was feeling from the Mark, as well it's resurgence, did not bode well for the future.

"We are safe here at Hogwarts," Albus started, "and we cannot act without knowing anything of the situation."

"Alert the Ministry, Amelia would be on this in a heartbeat!"

"The Ministry is enjoying the peace, Fudge would not welcome this, and Amelia would only be put in a dangerous situation."

"So, what? We just sit here and wait?" Severus looked at the headmaster expectantly.

"We have no choice, with no further proof," Albus replied, gazing into the man's eyes as if challenging him.

Sighing in defeat, Severus asked, "What about the Potter boy. He is here now, so are you guaranteeing his protection?"

"As long as Harry Potter in within Hogwarts grounds, he is safe."

With a huff, Severus left Albus to his own thoughts.

The headmaster of Hogwarts closed his eyes, as Fawkes, his phoenix, started singing him a song. He listened to the calming tune, welcoming its warm embrace in such a tumultuous time. With the Dark Mark coming back, and the incident during the Quidditch World Cup, Albus knew that it was only a matter of time before Voldemort started stirring.

"I think I'm too old for this."

Fawkes trilled, before flying towards Albus and nuzzling his cheek. The phoenix had been with Albus Dumbledore for years, and saw the ups and downs of the man's life. As his familiar, Fawkes had charged himself with supporting the man until the very end.

"What over Harry, would you?"

Fawkes trilled once more, before flashing out of the office.


End file.
